Flushed Away: A Long Campaign
by Firefall Bangenthump
Summary: Mr Malone's decision to run for mayor drags Roddy and Rita into a dangerous game in which the past is never very far from the present. As the conspiracy deepens, it becomes clear that there is more at stake for Rita and her father than the mayoral office
1. Power Politics

Much as I'd like to take the credit for what follows, it goes without saying that everything to do with the film _Flushed Away_ including all characters and settings is nothing to do with me and is entirely the work of the tireless trailblazers at DreamWorks and Aardman studios. I am also in debt to the kind readers of earlier pieces and I can only hope that this does not disappoint.

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"If I have to shake one more hand," muttered Roddy St. James, darkly. "I think mine is going to fall off."

"You think you've got problems," said Rita Malone, taking his wrist and massaging his palm with her thumb. "At least people only want to shake hands with the Hero of Ratropolis. How do you think I feel? All people want to do with me is have a photograph taken giving me a kiss."

"You don't complain about that when it's me," said Roddy, grinning. "Although I'm not one for photography, by and large."

Rita looked up at him and raised an eyebrow. "All right, next time you can wear a red wig, I'll wear a brown one and we can trade places. Okay?"

"I'd need a bit more than a red wig to be you, wouldn't I?" said Roddy, winking.

Rita stepped back and looked him up and down critically. "Good point," she said. "You'd need some poise and charm to go with it."

"Not to mention a scathing wit," said Roddy. He sighed and straightened his collar. "Why did we agree to help your father with all of this anyway?"

'All of this' referred to Mr Malone's latest preoccupation. Ratropolis was in mayoral election mode and every vertical object in every street was plastered with candidate posters, including one or two pedestrians who hadn't been moving fast enough to get away with it. Roddy and Rita were standing behind a makeshift stage on which Mr Malone was giving his usual speech. They'd both heard it so often over the last weeks that they could almost recite it by heart.

"Nobody knows this city better than a Malone," he was saying. "Nobody has a greater stake in the future of our community than I do. Certainly my opponent doesn't- he's never had a stake in anything that doesn't involve tablecloths."

There was general applause and cheering. Mr Malone waited for it to subside before he delivered what had become the unwritten motto of the Malone campaign. Roddy and Rita mouthed the words absent-mindedly.

"You know what the difference is between Bert Stough and the Toad? The Toad didn't have a tail." The crowd showed its appreciation again while Rita rolled her eyes.

Turning around, she called across to what passed for the brains behind her father's campaign. The Chief Political Adviser was loitering beside the steps leading onto the stage. Technically he was just standing there, but the Chief Political Adviser was the sort of person who could loiter on the run.

"Hey! How many more of these have we got today?" she asked him.

Sid sauntered over to the couple casually. "Keep it down, would you?" he said. "We're trying to give a performance you know."

"Well, excuse me, Mr Lloyd-Webber," said Rita. "How many more?"

Sid grinned. He had squeezed his ample frame into a cheap pinstripe suit which was already starting to fray at the shoulders. His tie was a patchwork of coffee stains and he was wearing a pair of wraparound sunglasses of the sort favoured by certain tennis players. Being recruited as Mr Malone's adviser had been something of a windfall for him.

"Just this one, Rita, don't fret. We don't want to wear the two of you out, after all. You know what's at stake in this election."

That much was certainly true. Years of de facto governance by the Toad and his gang had come close to eviscerating what passed for Ratropolis' political community as anyone who disagreed with the green gangster had shown a proclivity to disappear without warning. After the Toad's defeat at the World Cup, most of the dissenters had been found in the deathly chill of the Ice Maker. It was in this climate that Bert Stough had been able to rise to the top of the pile. Some might have taken that as a sign of ability, but every sewer-dweller knows that the things that float on top are not always the most pleasant. It had never been proven that Stough had any connections to the Toad but it was widely suspected, a perception not helped by Stough's insistence that the Mayoral Office be moved into the Floodgate Control Tower once the police had finished with it.

"It's been rumoured that Bert Stough has repaired the Ice Maker," Mr Malone told the audience. "I wonder if he means to give me a warm reception when I beat him?"

"Did you write these jokes, Sid?" Roddy asked.

Sid shook his head. "What jokes?"

"Exactly," said Roddy.

"Anyway," Mr Malone held up his hand for silence. "A warm reception is always a good thing. And right now I'd like you to join me in giving a very warm reception to two people who need no introduction..."

"Have you noticed that he always says that we need no introduction just before he introduces us?" said Roddy, wearily joining Rita at the steps.

"Have you noticed the way you always say that whenever he says that?" said Rita. It came off as harsh and she took Roddy's hand to show that she hadn't meant it. Campaigning was turning out to be like running on a wheel- a lot of effort, but you end up in the same place you started.

"It's thanks to these two that I'm able to stand here and talk to you today," said Mr Malone. "It's thanks to these two that we're here at all! Without fruther ado- my daughter, Rita, and my good friend Roddy St. James!" He extended a hand to the steps as the crowd cheered. Taking their cue, Roddy and Rita appeared on stage arm-in-arm, waving and smiling. It was quite a good crowd today, although Roddy had the feeling that there was a chandful of people who turned up to everything. He was sure that he could recognise more than a few faces, even as he tried not to blink in the fusillade of flashbulb photography. The stage was in the middle of Ratropolis' main square, by the fountain Roddy had seen when he first fetched up there. Mr Malone stood aside from the microphone as they joined him.

"Er...hello," said Roddy. There were cheers and even a few whistles.

"It's...er...a real pleasure to be here," he went on. "It's a pleasure to be able to support...the best candidate for the job. Yes. And...I'm sure he'll do us all proud when we vote him into office." He grinned desperately and wished that he was better in front of an audience. He handed the microphone to Rita, who was a born performer.

"Thanks, Roddy," she said, smiling brightly. "If I could just make a few brief remarks...I'd be much better at speaking in public!"

Someone laughed so loud that it caused feedback in the microphone. Roddy suspected that it was Grandmother Malone, who was generally at these things in the absence of anything else to do.

"Look, you all know me, you all know my old man," said Rita. "You also know Bert Stough. So who's it going to be?"

She put her arm around her father and they both waved as the crowd clapped. Roddy joined them and tried to look happy.

"That was great!" Sid was exuberant as the trio left the stage. "Dynamite stuff, boss! You two weren't bad either," he added to Roddy and Rita. "A few more like that and we'll have this in the bag!" He draped an arm around Mr Malone's shoulder and led him back to where the _Jammy Dodger I _floated by the path. An extensive repair and repainting session had brought the old derelict back to life and it was now decked out in election rig, with signs and posters on every flat surface. Roddy and Rita followed slowly.

"Why did your father hire Sid anyway?" asked Roddy. "Sid, and I say this with all due respect, is an unprincipled, low-life opportunist who wouldn't recognise honesty if it was pushed so hard into his ears that it came out his nose."

"Yes?" said Rita.

"Well, this is politics, isn't it? What do those characteristics have to do with...oh...right." Roddy trailed off as he saw Rita nodding.

"The penny drops at last," she said sagely.

"You mean he got the job because he has no redeeming features as a person?" Roddy shook his head. "I swear I wasn't cut out for this, Rita. I'd rather fight the Toad again than fight another election."

"We basically are," said Rita.

"Putting aside the campaign rhetoric about Stough," said Roddy wearily. "This is just a matter of personalities, right?"

Rita looked sideways and shook her head. "No, Roddy, it's not. Especially not for us. It was all before your time but...oh, never mind. You'll find out eventually. Let's just say that Bert Stough is going to be stuffed and mounted on our wall by the end of this, and that's not half of what he deserves."

Roddy stared in surprise. Rita was the most determined person he had ever met, but by the end of that sentence her tone had contained enough steel to sink a battleship. There was obviously something else in this, but Roddy knew better than to press Rita on something when she began talking like that. Being stuffed and mounted would seem comparatively merciful. They boarded the _Jammy Dodger I_ and helped cast off. Mr Malone began steering the boat into the current.

"Thanks for that, Rita," he said. "I know you hate those things but that's the only way to win this."

"I don't mind them, dad," said Rita. "I can't speak for Roddy, of course."

Roddy waved his hands. "No, no! I'm fine as well. Happy to help."

"I appreciate it, son," said Mr Malone. "I can't win this without you two.

And we have got to win this. Sid, what's the Deputy Mayor-to-be doing today?"

Sid consulted a clipboard. "I, er...I'm trying to keep him out of the spotlight, sir. It's...um, not big enough for all three of you." He coughed. Roddy rolled his eyes. Stough's reputation had ensured a very limited field of opposition candidates and it had taken Mr Malone some time to find a running mate. It had been said that only a crazy person would get into the ring with Stough, and Mr Malone had found one. Harold the Prophet had been at a loose end after the World Cup, when his long-held conviction that the city would be destroyed by flood had been overturned by Roddy and Rita. As a running mate and possible Deputy Mayor, he left much to be desired.

"Good," said Mr Malone, who was aware of that but didn't want to say so even when Harold wasn't anywhere near them.

"Look on the bright side," said Sid. "He's better than Stough's running mate." He pulled a crumpled piece of paper from his clipboard and held it up. It was a rather bad picture of Thimblenose Ted, face frozen into a grotesque attempt at a friendly grin. His campaign slogan (VOTE 1 FOR TED- HE (K)NOSE) was emblazoned across the bottom in a monument to both bad puns and illiteracy.

"Barely," said Rita. "At least you convinced him not to wear bread any longer."

"I do my bit for fashion," said Sid, smoothing a greasy lapel.

* * *

Mr Malone turned them into a back canal. The _Jammy Dodger II_ was waiting for them, tied up at the back of a shop. Mr Malone steered alongside and allowed Roddy and Rita to cross onto the newer vessel. The deck was laden down with coils of wire and small lightbulbs in boxes.

"See you back at the house!" called Mr Malone. "And be careful! That stuff cost a lot of money and we're going to need it!"

Rita started up the motor as Roddy tried to clear a space on the deck. He gave up and joined her in the cockpit as she brought the boat around and began following the _Jammy Dodger I_ back into the main channels.

"Your father never struck me as the political type," commented Roddy. "Or you, for that matter."

"What do you mean, or me for that matter?" Rita straightened the boat up and steered it towards the raising bridge that was the centrepiece of Ratropolis' street system.

"Well, you're a natural on the stage. You're really giving your all to beat the Stough campaign. Not that I'm surprised, of course."

Rita's eyes widened in surprise. "I thought you said you didn't know about that?"

Roddy looked at her blankly. "Well...you're not the sort of person who does things by half, Rita. You put your heart into everything you do. Why, what did you think I meant?"

"I thought you meant...the thing with Stough...never mind. Don't worry."

Rita shook her head and looked up as the bridge passed overhead. Roddy watched her carefully and wondered what nerve he'd touched there.

"Keep a sharp lookout," said Rita. "We're not out of the city yet."

Roddy looked around. "Well? There's nothing here. What are you worried about, sabotage?"

"I wouldn't put anything past Stough," said Rita. "Why do you think we're not bringing this stuff back in the old _Dodger_?"

"Because there's not enough room?" hazarded Roddy. "Don't you think that's all a bit paranoid? I mean, Stough might not be a nice guy and he might have one of the Toad's henchrats as his running mate, but you can't seriously think he'd stoop that low, do you?"

"From where Stough is right now, Roddy, he'd have to stand up to commit sabotage." Rita scanned a side canal as it joined the main waterway.

"See, this is something else I don't get. You and your dad act like this is a war. If it's so dangerous why did you even let him run? He wouldn't have done it if you hadn't let him. Even your mother only supports him on principle." Roddy tried to take Rita's hand but she moved it to adjust a control. Roddy felt the ambient temperature fall several degrees and decided that continuing on the topic was a bad move. Whatever history the Malones had with Stough would have to remain a mystery for now.

* * *

They pulled alongside the pier outside the family home. Rita looked around but couldn't see her father.

"Where are they?" she muttered. "They were ahead of us. They should have got here first."

"They probably went to pick up Harold," said Roddy, heaving a coil of wire onto his shoulder. "Stop fretting, will you? Your old man and Sid survived the salvage of that boat. They're not about to go down with it."

Rita remembered the near-disaster that had been the salvage of the _Jammy __Dodger_ from the Hyde Park Treatment Plant. Roddy was right. Of course he was. She nodded and picked up a box of lightbulbs.

"What are all these for anyway?" Roddy dumped the wire onto the pier and turned to take the box from Rita.

"They're for dad's big sign," said Rita. She pointed to a large wooden framework which was resting against the front of the house. It was just possible, with a bit of imagination, to read the word MALONE in the haphazardly-assembled timbers. "He thinks an illuminated sign will be a big asset."

"It's a big something all right," said Roddy. He grinned hopefully at Rita and saw that she wasn't even smiling.

"That was a joke, Rita," he said mildly. "Just trying to lighten the load."

Rita scratched her head. "Was that a joke too? 'Lighten the load' after I talked about an illuminated sign?"

"No, it wasn't a joke. I don't do puns. I tried once, though, I had a list of them but they didn't make anyone laugh. _No pun in ten did_." Roddy grinned again and raised his eyebrows. "You see what I did there with the end of that? Because 'No pun in ten did' sounds like-"

"I got it, Roddy," said Rita, shaking her head and trying not to laugh.

"All right, I'll give you that one. Come on, let's get the rest of this stuff ashore." She picked up another box and passed it up. Roddy stacked it neatly and looked up as the sound of engines approached. The _Jammy Dodger I_ was nearing the pier and drew up smoothly beside its successor. Sid and Harold jumped onto the deck while Mr Malone tied it up.

"Hello, Harold," said Roddy. The ex-prophet of doom nodded.

"That for the sign?"

"Yep," said Rita, picking up the last coil of wire. "We should be able to finish it tonight."

Harold regarded the components critically. "Are you sure this is a good idea? That thing'll use a lot of power and the circuit might not be able to take it."

"You're always thinking about what could go wrong, Harold," said Sid, slapping him on the back and steering him towards the house.

"Well, I used to make a living out of it," said Harold. Liam Malone opened the door and saw the group.

"Mum!" he shouted. "They're back! They've got the stuff!"

There was a blur as Shocky darted between his legs and fell upon the electrical components joyfully.

"Oh, wow! Real copper! LED lights! This is fantastic!"

Mr Malone picked his son up chuckling. "All right, son, all right, there'll be time for that later. Meanwhile, we'd better get us inside and some food inside us! How's that sound?"

* * *

Roddy swabbed the plate with the towel and put it away, closing the cupboard after it. He was helping Mrs Malone with the dishes as the rest of the family had migrated outside to watch or help with the assembly of the illuminated sign. The sound of hammering came through the walls and made ripples in the water in the sink.

"I appreciate your help, Roddy," said Mrs Malone. "You're invaluable to my husband, you know. Not to mention how much you mean to Rita."

"Thanks," said Roddy. "You know I'd help even if I wasn't. They're both so keen on this election."

"I'm not surprised. He's been looking for things to keep him busy since he retired. I told him that wasn't the point, but he can't abide doing nothing. He loves this city and he wants to make it better." She smiled. "He likes fixing things. Boats, houses...cities. And Rita's the same, you know that. She's always been her father's daughter."

"Right," said Roddy, with feeling.

"And then there's what happened between us and Stough," said Mrs Malone casually. "No, dear, they go in the drawer. Just there. That's right."

Roddy put the cutlery away and raised an eyebrow. "So there is some history there? Rita suggested that there was but she got a little...edgy whenever I tried to find out about it. Should I ask Mr Malone?"

"Oh, no, dear, he'd be twice as bad," Mrs Malone shook her head. "It's terrible sad, really, what a grudge can do to a person. My husband is a good man and there's not many people you could say that he really hates. But Bert Stough is one of them."

"And Rita?"

"Oh, Rita's too young to have been there for a lot of it," said Mrs Malone, dunking a bowl in the water and pausing to adjust her hair. "But she was there for enough of it and of course her father told her most of the rest."

"The rest of what?" asked Roddy. Mrs Malone gave a sad sigh and opened her mouth to reply, but was interrupted by an electrical buzzing. The lights dimmed and there were exuberant yells from outside.

"Sounds like they've done it," said Mrs Malone. She left the kitchen, leaving Roddy to wonder exactly what she had been about to reveal. He followed her out to the front, where the sign was blazing in all the colours of the rainbow. Mr Malone had a triumphant Shocky on his shoulders.

"We did it!" he shouted. "Isn't that something? Eh?"

"It's very nice, dear," said Mrs Malone, taking Shocky down and kissing her husband on the cheek. Roddy smiled at Rita, who dropped down from the side of the sign, wiping her hands on her trousers.

"Not bad," he said. Rita smiled back and put her arm around him.

"Is that all you've got to say?"

Roddy grinned. "For now."

Rita laughed. "Everyone's a critic. All right, turn it off. We've proved it works and we don't want to blow out the power bill."

Shocky saluted and disconnected the cable he had plugged into the sign.

The lights went out and the house brightened as the internal ones started drawing power again.

"I can't wait to see Stough and Ted's faces when they see this," chuckled

Mr Malone. "Sid, I want to use this at the next rally."

"No, problem, chief!" The Chief Political Adviser pulled out his clipboard and extracted a pencil from behind his ears.

"Shouldn't you take them sunglasses off?" said Mr Malone, watching him with an amused air. Sid was still wearing his wraparounds. "It's a bit dark for that now, isn't it?"

"I'm fine," said Sid, writing something on his clipboard. "Now, if someone could just point me in the direction of the house..."

Sniggering, Liam tapped Sid on the shoulder. "It's that way, pal," he said, pointing out across the water.

"Thanks, kiddo." Sid put the clipboard away and stepped confidently off the pier.

"Liam!" Mrs Malone tried to look severe, but couldn't wipe the smile off her face.

"He likes to make a big splash, mum," said Liam, who was grinning like a piranha.

"You're not the only one who likes puns, Roddy," said Rita, nudging him. "I think we'll call it a night."

* * *

The crowd was buzzing with anticipation as a work gang moved the sign into position behind the stage. Nobody had ever seen anything quite this grandiose before. Shocky was hovering around the sign, hopping nervously from one foot to the other. Roddy and Rita watched him check the power coupling for the ninth time.

"I said to be careful," said Harold. "That's not the right coupling, I'm sure of it. If we cause an overload it could result in a citywide power failure. The electrics down here are held together by scotch tape and baling wire."

"They have baling wire?" asked Roddy, somewhat surprised.

"Any comments about the possibility of a power failure, then?" said someone in a pleasant Irish accent.

Roddy looked around. It was Adele Scoop, the appropriately-named political correspondent of the _Ratropolitan_, the city's leading broadsheet.

"Um, no," said Roddy, cutting off Harold before he could say anything else.

"You sure?" said Adele coyly, pencil poised delicately above her notebook.

"Yes," said Rita firmly, taking Roddy's arm, "Now hurry up, Scoop, or you'll miss the show."

"Like I haven't heard him give the stump speech a dozen times already," said Adele dismissively.

"You'll want to see this time," said Rita, pointing to the sign. "This one will be different and we want all the nice voters to read about it in our city's most trusted paper, which we cannot live without. So push off."

Adele shrugged, tipped her hat to Roddy, and wandered around the front of the stage as Mr Malone began his speech.

"You can let go now," said Roddy, grinning. "You're really very protective of me around her."

"Have you seen the way she looks at you? She thinks you're going to be the big inside story of her career. And then some." Rita winked at Roddy cheerfully. "I can't imagine why."

"This from the person who was yesterday complaining about every male in Ratropolis wanting a picture taken with her?" Roddy put his arm around her waist. "A week really is a long time in politics."

"It's only been a day, hasn't it?" said Rita.

"Precisely."

Mr Malone was getting into his speech now. "We're going to open politics up in this city! We're going to make it a better place! We're going...to turn the lights on again!" He pointed to the sign. Shocky took his cue, and threw the switch. The sign blazed on, and the crowd applauded appreciatively. Roddy and Rita joined in while Harold eyed the power coupling nervously.

"Should it...be doing that?" he said, pointing.

Rita looked and gasped. Smoke was pouring out of the coupling. The plastic insulation melted, exposing bare metal. Shocky panicked and made a dive for cover as blue flashes played across the sign, exploding the bulbs in succession and raining hot glass shrapnel down over the stage causing Mr Malone to duck under the lectern as the crowd yelled in shock. Rita started towards the coupling but was pulled back by Roddy.

"Don't! It's too dangerous!"

"We've got to stop it before it does any more damage!" shouted Rita, struggling against him. Harold pinned her down and the three of them watched in horror as the coupling finally gave way with a bang. The lights went out- not the lights on the sign, which were already gone, but the lights of the city as well, shorting out in sympathy as the current fluctuated violently. In the darkness, nobody spoke. The molten coupling glowed a dull, blood red.

"Oh dear..." muttered Roddy. He felt someone moving beside him and looked around, nearly getting a pencil in the eye.

"You were right that I didn't want to miss it this time, Rita," said Adele, grinning cheerfully. "So tell me…_now_ do you have any comments about the possibility of a power failure?"


	2. The Big Deal

Mr Malone was pacing the floor of the Mayoral Offices and looking agitated.

"He's going to slit us," he said eloquently. "He's going to slit us badly. This is exactly the kind of thing he's been waiting for."

Roddy looked around the small group as they huddled together. Rita was wearing an expression very much like her father. Harold was looking resigned as usual and Sid's expression was hidden behind his sunglasses. The Chief Political Adviser was slumped in a chair by the fireplace and was giving every indication of being asleep.

"Is it that much of a deal?" said Roddy. Mr Malone stopped and looked at him.

"We caused a citywide blackout, son. In the middle of an election campaign. Yes, it's that much of a deal. It's probably more. Stough's going to lord it over me until the end of time for this one, I just know it."

"The Mayor will see you now," said the secretary, looking up from behind her desk. Mr Malone nodded and tried to look dignified as he marched through the big double-doors. Roddy followed and tried not to think about the last time he had been here. Stough had moved the Mayoral Offices into the Toad's former hideout, and had apparently left things much as they were. The fur rug with the terminal look of surprise, the big fireplace, the pictures on the wall…it was worryingly as if the Toad had never left it at all. A desk had been set up in the middle of the room., artfully positioned so that a visitor would not be able to see the face of anyone sitting behind it. A deep shadow fell across it, hiding them from view.

"Ah, Mr Malone. So good of you to come. And you as well, Ms Malone," said the shadow.

"Bert," said Mr Malone, giving an economical nod. Rita said nothing but folded her arms and glared.

"How's the house going? Reconsidered it yet?" The darkness seemed to be slightly amused at something. Mr Malone didn't reply.

The shadow stood up. It was Mr Malone's fond joke that the only difference between Stough and the Toad was a tail, but Roddy saw now that it was surprisingly true. Stough was not quite as tall as he was, which still made him tower over Mr Malone, but carried a large and ample frame. His pale pastel suit was flawlessly pressed, the gold mayoral chains hung off his shoulders and at first glance his face was open and friendly. A second glance, however, would have noticed the eyes, small, beady and calculating exactly how much they could get from the world. They were not the eyes of a killer, but they sat above the smile of a shark.

"And Harold too, how nice." Bert Stough shook Harold's hand. "You know my deputy, of course." He waved a hand. Thimblenose Ted emerged from beside the fireplace and nodded to the assembly.

"We've met on occasion," said Roddy.

Stough looked at him for a moment, as if trying to think who he was.

"Mr St. James. Of course you have. But times change. Which is of course why we are all here!" Stough crossed over to the fireplace, framing himself against its glow. Rita rolled her eyes.

"Enough of the theatricals, Stough, what did you want us here for?"

Stough glared. "I thought I might give you a chance to explain why you shorted out the entire city's power grid before I have to arrested."

"Arrested? What for?" Sid was taken aback. "It was an honest mistake!"

"Oh, the charge sheet could take some time to compile. We could begin with gross negligence. You were using a point-12 coupling, were you not? That lighting rig needed nothing less than a point-14."

"We asked for a point-14," said Mr Malone, carefully keeping his voice level and calm. "But your office supplied us with a point-12. It was your fault that we had the wrong equipment, not ours."

"A trivial mistake on the part of some factotum," said the Mayor, grinning nastily. "The fact remains that you went ahead and used it despite obviously being aware of the danger."

"I know what you're doing, Bert," said Mr Malone.

"Upholding the law," said Ted. The irony of the former hench-rat's statement was not lost on Roddy.

"It's a set-up," said Rita, forcefully. "This whole thing's a set-up isn't it? You're trying to fit us up so you won't be beaten hollow in the election!"

"Rita…" Roddy tugged on her sleeve in an attempt to bring her down to earth. Stough's eyes narrowed.

"That's a very serious accusation, Ms. Malone. You might want to have to proof of that before you throw it around."

Rita suppressed a snarl. "As if that's not your game! You're the one who'll have to watch out if you-"

"Easy, girl," said Mr Malone out of the corner of his mouth. "That's just what he wants." He turned back to Stough. "All right, what's the play, then? You didn't really bring us here to get our side of the story so what is it?"

Stough smiled patronisingly. "I thought you might be interested in the possibility of making up for…your mistake."

"My client will not be discussing money," said Sid, stepping forward. Stough rolled his eyes.

"Put him away, Malone, before he gets you into trouble. This is a conversation I can only have with you and your daughter."

"Hang on, you can't do that!" Roddy protested. "I…I mean, we…"

"Roddy and me go together," said Rita. He looked at her with relief. Stough sighed.

"All right. The three of you follow me."

* * *

Roddy followed Rita through a door into the control cabin. The great fridge the Toad had used as an execution chamber was still there. Roddy stared at it and wondered whether the rumours about Stough and the Ice Maker were true.

"Out with it, Bert," snapped Mr Malone. "I've had about enough of this."

Stough turned and fingered the mayoral chains.

"You think you have, do you? It isn't your city that you plunged into darkness!"

"Not yet it ain't," said Rita defiantly.

"My proposal is simple," said Stough. "Since you broke it, you fix it."

Roddy stared. "Fix the whole city? That's impossible! It's too big!"

Stough waved him into silence. "As a matter of fact, it's quite simple. You see, the whole city draws power from the floodgate control system and your failure to follow proper safety precautions caused a component to fuse up here."

He led them up the stairs to the darkened control panel. Roddy looked out of the window across the city. Little yellow sparks here are there suggested that candles were being pressed into service already. Rita stopped by a panel which had been removed and peered into the console's innards. Roddy joined her. The main power lines came in just under their feet and joined a complex box-shaped device, the edges of which had warped and run slightly.

"That is what we need," said Stough. "The primary transformer was destroyed. Fortunately that prevented the surge from doing any further damage, but without it, the city will remain in blackout." He stood next to Roddy. "Which is where you two come in."

"What do you want us to do about it?" Rita raised an eyebrow.

"I want you to acquire a replacement," said Stough. "They're actually quite easy to find. If you know where to look."

"If it's so easy why don't you go and get it?"

Stough bristled. "Because, Ms Malone, I'm not the one looking at being arrested for improper use of city property!" He turned on Mr Malone. "Here's the deal. Those two get me a new transformer and I'll forget about your negligence. Of course…the voters might not…" he smiled again, a predator's smile. All teeth and no heart.

Mr Malone shook his head. "No way. I'm not falling for that one again. You're not sending anyone anywhere, Bert, not while I'm alive."

"Falling for what again?" said Roddy. Rita nudged him into silence.

"All right," she said. "You got yourself a deal."

"Rita?" Mr Malone stared at her.

"It's the only way, dad. You've got to win this. We'll get whatever it is and be back as soon as possible."

Stough turned his smile on her. "I knew at least one of you would see sense."

Mr Malone looked for a moment as if he try arguing against his daughter, but gave up.

"Be careful, Rita. And Bert, I promise you, if anything happens to either of them I'll make sure you do live to regret it."

"So where do we have to go, then?" said Rita.

Stough started down the stairs. "They're an old component. Long since out of production. But you can still find them in some machines…especially trains."

"Trains? We have to break into a train?" Roddy followed Rita nervously.

"The 2.30 from Paddington will be leaving soon," Stough called over his shoulder. "If you hurry, you might just make it! Now if you'll excuse me…I have a press conference to go to. See Ted for what you need. I'm sure he'll make the journey a pleasant one for you."

They followed him out into the main office where Ted was waiting with Harold and Sid. Stough opened the door to allow them to leave. Roddy looked around as the assembled reporters started calling.

"No comment!" shouted Sid. "No comment! Coming through!"

"Anything you'd like to say yet, Roddy?" Adele Scoop stepped forwards, proffering her notebook.

"Don't even think about it," muttered Rita, shepherding Roddy past the grinning journalist. "We've got enough problems already."

* * *

Roddy was pacing the deck of the _Jammy Dodger II_ as Rita piloted it through the drains, heading away from the city.

"I don't get why you agreed to this so easily," he said. "You looked like you were ready to kill the Mayor for most of that meeting."

"I was," said Rita. "But it occurred to me that violence might not have been the best option."

Roddy looked up in mock surprise. "Rita Malone, you've grown up!"

"Shut up," she said, but she was grinning as she said it. "Look, it was the only way out. Stough would have had us arrested for sure."

"But there was no crime! That'd all come out in court!" Roddy joined her at the helm.

"That's not the point," Rita shook her head. "Stough only needs to keep my dad out of the way for a couple of days. Then the election'll be over and he can release him 'cos he won't be a threat then. You see, Roddy? I'm not as stupid as you look."

Roddy ignored the baited hook. "Speaking of your father, Rita, why did he say he wouldn't fall for that _again_? What's happening here?"

She looked away.

"Look, Rita, I'll help you in any way I can. I'll go with you to the end, you know that, but you could at least tell me why!"

"All in good time, Roddy," said Rita quietly. "I promise I'm not hiding anything from you but…just not now. I need a good run-up to think about Bert Stough at the best of times."

Roddy watched her face intently, trying to identify the emotions which flickered behind her eyes. He gave up.

"All right. I'm sorry. Let's get this over and done with." He looked at the map to Paddington. "Although I'm not sure about this route. Some of those tunnels are hardly used. If anything goes wrong it could be weeks before anyone finds us."

"I thought you weren't worried about things happening?" Rita chided him gently.

"I thought you were worried about Stough sabotaging us," said Roddy.

"I am," said Rita. "I was just pointing out that you seem to be now as well."

"That's because I met him," Roddy shivered at the memory of the eyes. And that damned smile…

"He has that effect on people," said Rita grimly.

"I feel like I need a shower just from being in the same room as him," said Roddy.

"He has that effect too. Maybe you should have asked him. He could have shown you what he has in the fridge."

Roddy laughed. "So you believe those rumours about the Ice Maker?"

Rita looked sideways at him. "You don't?"

"I didn't," said Roddy. "But then-"

"You met him, yes. He has that effect on people." Rita opened the throttle a little. "I wouldn't put anything past him. Take the wheel for a moment, would you? I'm going to check the transmission again."

Roddy did so without a word and watched her disappear down the hatch into the engine room. The transmission had been playing up lately…but she'd practically taken it apart only that morning. Whatever the Malone family's past was with Bert Stough, it must be preying on her mind.

* * *

As the sewers neared Paddington Station, they narrowed considerably to accommodate the larger tunnels of the London Underground which ran alongside them. An occasional distant rumble indicated the passage of a Tube train. Rita looked up at the ceiling as it happened again.

"That one sounded like it was almost on top of us," she said.

"Well, the sewers and the Underground were built separately," said Roddy. "It isn't as if there was some kind of grand plan. As they were extended over the years they kept breaking into each others' tunnels. It got quite dangerous. The whole city is honeycombed with…why am I telling you this?"

"I don't know, Roddy," said Rita, grinning at him. "I guess you just like the sound of your own voice."

Roddy sighed. "You're the last person who needs to be told about the underground of this city and you're definitely the last one who needs to be told how dangerous it is."

"You're really getting the hang of this worrying thing, aren't you?" Rita patted him on the shoulder. He grinned and shrugged her off.

"And what happened to you, Captain Indefatigable? You're not worried any longer?"

"You're quite worried enough for both of us," said Rita. "And I am still concerned, I just choose not to advertise the fact."

Roddy stepped behind her and put his hands on her shoulders. "Well, I do what I can around here." He let his hands drift down to her hips. Rita smiled and leaned into his arms.

"Sorry about before, when you asked about Stough. It's complicated. It'll take longer to explain than I've got."

"I understand." Roddy let her rest the back of her head on his shoulder. "It must be a good reason, whatever it is."

There was a loud rumble overhead. Then there was the sound of shifting stonework and a brick, dislodged from the tunnel roof, splashed into the water ahead of the _Jammy Dodger II_, showering it with spray and sending out ripples that caused it to buck violently. Rita was thrown backwards off her feet and landed on Roddy.

"Where did that come from?" Roddy tried to sit up. Rita leapt to her feet and looked up just as a second brick fell. It hit the water just off the port stern, sending them into a lateral spin, which she hastily corrected.

"These old tunnels are coming apart!" she said.

Roddy looked up and gasped. "I don't think they are, Rita!"

"What do you mean?" Rita hauled the wheel to starboard and narrowly missed a third brick, which stuck end-first into the bottom of the tunnel like an oblong iceberg.

Roddy pointed. Rita followed his finger. Figures were running along the pipes that hung from the drain roof, pausing occasionally to crowbar a brick out of the roof. No wonder they were falling so close by the boat- they were being aimed!

"Hold on, Roddy!" Rita gritted her teeth and opened the throttle. The _Jammy Dodger II_ surged forward, engine singing as a fourth brick landed in their wake.

Roddy scrambled into the cockpit.

"Who are they? Why are they trying to get us?"

"Who the blazes do you think they are, Roddy?" snapped Rita. "Damn him! I knew I should have suspected something!"

Roddy paused and remembered Stough's parting words.

"_See Ted for what you need. I'm sure he'll make the journey a pleasant one for you."_

"We've walked right into this!" said Rita. She turned the wheel, zig-zagging the _Jammy Dodger II_ at high speed to avoid any more bricks. Roddy looked up at the pipes again and saw a female figure running along them, gesturing frantically. She was shouting something to the others on the pipelines, but Roddy couldn't pick them out above the sound of the engine. But if he didn't know better, he'd swear that she had a familiar Irish accent.

* * *

Adele Scoop stopped running and rested for a moment, hands on her knees and breathing deeply. She'd been hard-pressed to get here at all after covering Stough's press conference at which he'd announced that Roddy and Rita had gone to repair the power grid. Stough had almost avoided telling the press where they were heading and Adele had hurried off as soon as he did so. That was suspicious, she knew…she was the best political reporter in the city and leaving important press conferences early was hard to explain at the best of times, but this was important. She looked down at the _Jammy Dodger II_ as it disappeared down the tunnel and breathed a sigh of relief. She had made it just in time.

* * *

This tunnel was hardly deserving of the name. It was a brick-lined trench which iron grates covering the top. Roddy helped tie the boat to the side and looked up. A cacophony of noise could be heard even down here, beating on the eardrum like waves. A tannoy was blaring something, hundreds of people were walking and talking and above it all was the bass growl of powerful diesels. They were right under the platform.

"All right, up we go," said Roddy, picking up the grapnel and line. "And watch out for the bears!"

"What bears?" Rita looked at him quizzically.

"Well…it's Paddington Station, isn't it?" said Roddy, but he was already losing confidence in the joke. Rita frowned.

"You don't know what you're talking about, Roddy, the zoo is miles from here." She brought the mechanical arm up and poked a grate aside. Roddy sighed and followed her up it. They were right underneath a train, the undercarriage and all its machinery stretching away on either side.

"This'll do," said Rita. "Diesel-electric. This must have one of those transformers somewhere. Let's do it."

Roddy nodded and swung the grapnel a couple of times before hurling it into the mass of steel. It caught on something and he tested it one or twice.

"Right. Feels safe enough." He began climbing it. Rita followed close behind. They found themselves on a long horizontal metal beam running the length of the carriage. Rita wiped her hands and looked around. She spotted a likely-looking cluster of machines and headed towards it.

"_Attention, attention. The 2.20 express service to Edinburgh is now departing from Platform Nine. The 2.20 express service to Edinburgh is now departing from Platform Nine. Stand clear, please."_

Roddy looked around as he heard the announcement coming over the station's loudspeakers. A sick feeling grew in his stomach.

"Rita! I think we should be going!"

"Hang on, I've just about got it!" Rita was elbows-deep in the machinery, tugging hard on something. Roddy ran over.

"Good, try pulling on that bit there." Rita pointed into the machine. Roddy saw the black box of the transformer, exactly like the one in Stough's control room. Desperately, he yanked hard, straining with all his strength.

"I think it's coming loose!" Rita shouted. "I think-"

Her words were lost as the diesels started up. The thunder seemed to fill the world and they withdrew their hands quickly as blue flashes began arcing inside the machine. Rita looked around dumbfounded.

"What's going on?"

Roddy knew. He opened his mouth to explain, but there was a lurch and the train began moving off. Rita looked down as the tracks began sliding away below them. She grabbed Roddy by the arm.

"We've got to get off this thing!"

"It's too late!" shouted Roddy. The train was accelerating fast. The ground was already a blur. They watched in horror as the train left Paddington and turned north. As the train gathered speed, the roar of the engines fell away as the burden of acceleration was lifted. Roddy and Rita sat down among the machinery and looked at each other.

Roddy cleared his throat.

"Well, since we're going to Edinburgh now," he said, "Do you think you've got time to tell me about Bert Stough and what he did to you?"


	3. Northbound

The undercarriage of the train was like a cathedral, all flying buttresses and transepts, nooks and crannies packed with machinery. The whole was covered in a fine layer of grease and oil, which was in turn caked with dust kicked up by the train's passage. The rails were a blur beneath them as the express picked up speed, heading north out of London. Rita had located a maintenance locker towards the end of the carriage, and had proceeded to boot it open. Among the tools thus dislodged as a rubber-handled hammer, which she was now sitting on cross-legged. Roddy sat next to her. At least here the roar of the diesels was muted and they were out of the whirling slipstream.

"I thought Stough said that it was a 2.30 train," said Roddy. "It left at 2.20. Why do I get the feeling that we just got set up?"

"Probably because we just got set up," said Rita. "He'll be made to suffer, Roddy, I promise you that."

Roddy decided to take a chance.

"So…" he said. "About Bert Stough…"

"It was a long time ago." Rita was looking down at her hands. Her voice was soft and low, almost inaudible above the noise of the train. "Stough and my dad grew up together. Even worked together as journeymen. They were always rivals but it used to be a friendly kind of thing. Then Stough got it into his head to give up prospecting and go into developing."

"Developing what?" Roddy felt that they were about to walk into a minefield.

"Property, mainly. He had his eye on our family house. You see, there's an oil pipeline running directly underneath it. Stough thought he could tap it and make a mint supplying the city. But my dad refused to sell. Nearly drove Stough mad. They didn't speak to each other for months."

She sighed. "I was just born at the time. Anyway, one day after all that pipeline stuff, Stough called dad and said he wanted to see him. Just him. Dad was suspicious about that but he felt that he knew Stough well enough to handle whatever was coming. He went off and I stayed at home with mum and grandma." She stopped abruptly and looked for a moment as if she was struggling to retain control. Roddy reached out and tentatively touched her shoulder.

"It's all right, Rita. If you don't want to tell me…"

She shook her head. "You need to know this. While dad was out…Stough sent his goons around to the house. They tried to put the frighteners on us. Kicked down the front door and that sort of thing." She put on a brave smile despite herself. "Grandma saw them off with her umbrella. She was a lot tougher in those days."

Roddy frowned. That was grounds for distrust all right, but not the kind of hatred that he had heard in Rita's voice before. There had to be more to it.

"Mum was pregnant at the time," said Rita, hardly above a whisper. "Her second child…I was the first of course. Well…they put the frighteners on her all right. We couldn't do anything to help her."

Rita paused again. She closed her eyes briefly, opening them again quickly to avoid seeing whatever her memory was projecting. Roddy sat still, a sick feeling that he knew what she was talking about.

"It was a girl, Roddy. I should have had a sister to grow up with." She bowed her head and a tear fell from her eyes. Roddy shifted closer and took her in his arms, still trying to understand.

"So that's what you dad meant when he told Stough that he wasn't falling for that again? That he wouldn't let Stough separate him from your family again?"

Rita nodded and rested her head against Roddy's chest. Roddy stroked her hair absently. Why hadn't Mrs Malone told him about this? Surely she'd have been more affected than anyone else.

"Mum doesn't like to talk about it," said Rita, as if reading his mind. "None of us do. It wouldn't have come up again if it wasn't for all this business. That's why dad and I want to win so badly. I should have had a sister, Roddy. I should have had a normal childhood with someone my own age to play with. Instead it was just me and dad and the boat. I don't regret a moment of it, don't get me wrong, but…sometimes I just wish it could have been different. It was so long before mum and dad tried again."

Roddy realised that he should have guessed that. There was a yawning age difference between Rita and Liam, the second-oldest of the Malone children.

"I can't imagine," he said. "I never had brothers or sisters, but I never knew that I should have done. I didn't know I was missing anything until I met you."

"You didn't know a lot until you met me," said Rita, trying to bring the conversation back onto more familiar territory. She wiped her eyes and sat up, forcing a grin.

"Touché," said Roddy, gently. He looked at her and touched her shoulder. "Thank you for telling me. I'm so sorry you had to. I…really can't imagine."

Rita shrugged. "No good crying over spilt milk, as my grandma used to say to me. Like you said yourself, you deserved to know. Besides, it's five hours to Edinburgh. Had to do something to pass the time."

Roddy nodded slowly.

"If I'd known...I'm sorry if I've not been as involved in this as you have. I didn't know what was at stake."

Rita took his hand. "No reason you should have. Anyway, now you know. So let's start thinking about how we're going to get out of this."

Roddy stood up and looked around. "Short of breaking the train, I think we're stuck with it. We must be doing 120 by now so we can't exactly jump off. I guess we'll just have to wait until we get there and then find a train back from Edinburgh. What are you doing?"

Rita was eyeing the hammer with a calculating look. "Well, like you said, that's all we can do short of breaking the train. So let's break it."

Roddy rolled his eyes. "If you could control your destructive instincts for a moment? We're doing 120 miles an hour. You break the train now and it could derail and kill us both, not to mention the humans on board. And even if it didn't we'd be stranded here and it'd take us longer to walk back to Paddington that it'd take to ride back from Edinburgh."

Rita stopped dragging the hammer out of the locker. "Oh. Right. Good thinking."

"It was, wasn't it?" said Roddy. "That's what happens you pay attention to things called _consequences_."

Rita grinned. "Touché indeed."

* * *

Mr Malone was sitting on the cockpit step in the _Jammy Dodger I_, looking dejected. 

"There's nothing you could have done, boss," said Sid. "He's got all the cards right now. And when Rodders and Rita get back you'll be able to claim at least some of the credit, right?"

"Wrong," said Mr Malone. "Because Bert-blasted-Stough will have been the one whose idea it was. And that assumes that they'll get back."

"You think they won't?" Sid scratched his head. 'Werll…it's a long way to Paddington, sure, but not that far."

"I didn't mean back on time, Sid, I meant back at all." Mr Malone stood up and looked around. He noticed a figure skulking in the shadows nearby.

"Is that you, Adele?"

Adele Scoop looked up at her name. "What? Oh, yes. Hello, Mr Malone. Hi, Sid."

"Are you all right? You seem a little out of breath there," Mr Malone stepped off the boat. "Plus you didn't ask if I had any comments about something, which would be a first time."

"Do you have any comments you'd like to make?" said Adele, reaching for her notebook.

"None that you can print in a family newspaper."

She grinned. "I thought it'd be something like that. Off the record, then."

Mr Malone raised a sceptical eyebrow. "I didn't know you did off-the-record, Ms Scoop."

"I'm off the record now, Mr Malone,"

"You look exactly the same as you do when you're on the record."

"I don't have a switch or anything, Mr Malone. Do you want to consult with your Chief Adviser there?"

Mr Malone turned around. His Chief Political Adviser was polishing his sunglasses on the seat of his pants. Adele's grin grew wider.

"Yeah, I thought so."

"Pity Roddy's not here. He'd have something to say I'm sure," said Mr Malone. Adele shrugged.

"I doubt that very much. Besides, he's all right. They both are. They didn't look like they were too worried."

Mr Malone frowned. "I didn't think you got a good look at the press conference," he said.

"No, I meant-" Adele realised what she was about to say and bit her tongue. "I meant...yes. At the press conference. They looked fine there. At the press conference. Nowhere else."

Mr Malone looked at her curiously. "You sure you're all right? Not been working too hard? This can't have been an easy assignment for a new reporter. You just joined the _Ratropolitan_ when the campaign started, didn't you?"

"That's right," said Adele.

"Yeah…funny, that. You just turned up, this hotshot correspondent whom nobody had ever heard tone or tale of before. Anyway," he said, just as a panicky look flickered across her face, "Sorry about that. I'll get back to…what I was doing."

"Campaigning?" suggested Adele. "Last chance. Voting opens tomorrow."

"Yeah." Mr Malone sighed and got back on the boat. "Let's hope so."

* * *

Roddy stuck his head through a hole in the wall and nearly had it removed by the slipstream. The wind was like a flurry of bricks in his face, but he saw enough. The landscape had changed noticeably. He came back into the maintenance locker and tried to repair his hair. 

"Well, we're in Scotland all right," he said. "Can't be long now. Pity we don't have anything to eat, otherwise we'd be pretty comfortable here."

Rita nodded. "I'd rather be on the _Dodger_ but sure, we've had worse berths."

Roddy sat next to her. "It's also nice not to have worry about imminent death for once. It's almost relaxing. Nothing to do but lie back and think of England."

Rita raised an eyebrow. Roddy sighed.

"All right, maybe not here," he admitted.

"I was going to say, Roddy. This is a fine time for you to get distracted."

"I know, that's why I chose it," said Roddy happily, "But still, you must see what I mean. For the next few hours we have nothing to worry about except getting back to London. Never mind about Stough or…the election," he corrected himself in the nick of time.

"Nothing to worry about except getting back to London? You say that like it'll be easy," said Rita, smiling.

"We're going to Scotland, not the Caspian Basin. They have trains there. Including, shortly, this one. I didn't navigate us across France- twice- and Monaco to get lost in Edinburgh." Roddy wagged a finger. Rita laughed.

"You navigated us? It's a good thing you're not navigating us now or you'd have us into the North Sea!"

Roddy grinned. "Maybe you don't know about trains, Rita. They run on these things called tracks that mean it can only go in one direction."

"I'm sure you'd find a way around that," said Rita.

"Well, I'm flattered that you have such faith in me, Captain," replied Roddy, bowing graciously.

Rita laughed again and shook her head. "All right, maybe you didn't do such a bad job. We did get home after all."

"Oh, I thought we got more than that," said Roddy. He put an arm around her. Rita leaned into him.

"Yeah…maybe we did." She smiled softly.

"Only maybe? I'll have to try better next time," Roddy flashed her a grin. "I guess we're just born travellers. We get back from France and here we are in Scotland. Does it count as travel if it was accidental?"

"I'd argue that it would," said Rita. "Although…I'm not sure how accidental it really was. Stough sent us to Paddington, even told us what train we should aim for knowing that it'd leave before we were ready. And then there were those guys dropping bricks in the sewer near the station."

"You think they were Stough's men?" said Roddy.

"Who else knew we were there? The only other people who knew where we were going were the journalists Stough talked to at the press conference. You're not the most photogenic of species, Roddy, but I don't think you've irritated the press to the point where they'd try to kill you." She patted his hand. "At least not if it would mean killing me as well."

Roddy remembered the Irish-accented figure he had seen running along the pipes as the bricks crashed down. Did that mean that she was in league with Stough? But she had stopped the bricks. So whose side was she really on?

"You know, I've been thinking about Adele…" he said.

Rita poked him in the side. "That wasn't a very diplomatic way to start a conversation, Roddy. You think I want to know what you've been thinking about Scoop?"

Roddy grinned. "You do seem interested in that, yes. But that wasn't what I meant." He explained about what he had seen in the Paddington tunnel. Rita listened intently.

"What do you think she's playing at?" asked Roddy. "The way I see it, she had no business being there if she's just a reporter. But she also can't be working for Stough. Aside from anything else I don't think she'd have missed us four times."

Rita nodded. "But if she's not with Stough then who is she with? I think we're going to have to talk to Scoop when we get back. I think I've got some questions for her to answer."

Roddy looked up as the sound of the train's engines changed pitch.

"I think we're slowing down," he said, feeling the pull of deceleration. "We must be nearly there."

"Good. As relaxing as being taken a very long way from home is, I want to get back quickly. We'll need to move fast once we get into Edinburgh Station."

"Waverley," said Roddy.

Rita stared. "Pardon?"

"It's called Waverley Station, not Edinburgh. Sorry, just making a point."

"Which is what?"

"That even on unscheduled trips like this, I know exactly where we're going. I am a navigator, remember?" Roddy gave her a cheeky salute.

* * *

The train growled into the station and came to a halt beside the platform, stopping so sharply that Roddy nearly fell off the beam they were standing on. Rita dropped neatly to the ground and beckoned to Roddy, who followed somewhat less-athletically with the grapnel line. 

"Right," said Rita. "Now let's find us a southbound train."

They set off, keeping in the cover provided by the train's wheels and the steel of the rails. Roddy looked back as they ran and saw something.

"Rita? I think there's someone following us."

She stopped, and Roddy ran into her, bowling them both over.

"Sorry!" he hissed, as they extricated each other and stood up again. Rita waved him into silence and looked back up the train. There was a flicker of movement in the shadow of the wheels. A group of rats was there, shining little lights into the undercarriage they had just been sitting on.

"Oh, they're probably just workers," said Roddy, relaxing.

Rita waved at him again and listened intently.

"…they must be here somewhere," said one of the figures.

"Are you sure this is the right carriage?" said another.

"Of course I'm sure. That's what she told us, isn't it?"

Roddy swallowed hard. Okay. Not workers.

"I don't believe it," muttered Rita. "We've been here for all of eight seconds and already someone's looking for us. I shouldn't have got out of bed this morning."

"I wouldn't have complained," said Roddy. "All right! Sorry!"

"Hey! That's them!" A voice rang out from behind them. They turned and saw a trio of uniformed rats running towards them from the other end of the train. The first group heard the shout and hurried towards it. Rita gritted her teeth.

"Give me that grapnel," she said. Roddy passed it over.

"Aren't we going to run?" he hissed.

"Not yet."

Roddy watched as Rita swung the grapnel, looking up into the machinery of the train as she did so. The trio that had spotted them were almost on top of them.

"Now stay where you are, lassie," said the apparent leader. "We don't want any trouble."

"Pity," said Rita, giving him a cocky grin. "I do."

She hurled the grapnel into the guts of the train and yanked hard. The steel hook had gripped onto a rubber hose, which tore as she pulled on it. A torrent of viscous green liquid spurted out of the tear, knocking the three rats to the ground.

"I warned you!" said Rita, cheerily. She turned to the first group, which had slowed somewhat after seeing what had just happened and waved.

"You want some too? Well, come and have a go if you think you're fast enough!" She took off, leaping over the goo-coated trio gracefully.

"Now, where have I heard that before?"

Roddy paused in the act of following her. That voice had been familiar. A fourth rat stepped out in front of Rita, barring her path. He stared at her with his piercing blue eyes.

"Rita?"

Rita skidded to a halt. "Valentine?"

"She knows who you are, sir," said one of the uniformed rats in surprise. Valentine nodded. "And I know her. Rita Malone. And Roddy St. James. This…is beyond a surprise. It's all right, sergeant, they're with me." He nodded to the leader of the rats Rita had covered in brake fluid.

Roddy shook Valentine's hand. The three had last met on Burhou Island, where they had become entangled in the Toad's latest plan to bring about the Glorious Amphibian Dawn.

"Still with InterPol?" he asked.

"Not any longer. My secondment expired and I was sent back to the Met." Valentine tapped his officer's rank pins. "Although not without something to show for it. Now, there are going to be all sorts of questions asked and no doubt you've got some of your own. But I'm going to ask the first one."

He turned around and paced up and down a few steps as if in deep thought before turning back to Roddy and Rita.

"What the blazes are you doing here?"


	4. On The Night Before

"What do you mean, 'what the blazes are we doing here'?" said Rita. "What are _you_ doing here looking for us?"

Valentine tapped his foot impatiently. "Why can I never be the first to get my questions answered?"

"Because you keep asking them of her," said Roddy, nodding to Rita, who glared at him.

Valentine sighed. "I'm here because I'm working. Now, again, why are you two here?"

Roddy took it upon himself to explain it to Valentine.

"So this is all to do with the elections? I thought so. That's what brings me here as well."

"You're in the wrong city, aren't you?" said Roddy.

"To vote? Yes. But there's more important work to be done. You know the incumbent, Bert Stough? I'm investigating him."

"Why?" asked Roddy.

"Because he's a-" Rita and Valentine spoke together, the former reeling off an impressive list of four-letter adjectives, the latter settling for something a bit less descriptive. Roddy watched the two of them with a faint smile on his face.

"Well, something like that," finished Valentine. "We've got a team of people in the city working under my best agent. She managed to let us know that Stough was sending a couple of people up here, and we rather assumed that he was. I'd been hoping to arrest them and find out enough from them to arrest him. Instead I get you two."

"Your agent's obviously not up to much if they didn't let you at least know who it was that was coming," opined Rita.

"She had her hands full. Undercover work is like that." Valentine shrugged.

"She?" said Roddy, trying to work this out. "Who is the agent?"

Valentine coughed. "For operational reasons, I cannot divulge that at this time," he said mysteriously.

"Why, because you'd have to kill me?" grinned Roddy.

"Not exactly. But her identity will remain a closely-guarded secret until-"

Rita interrupted. "Oh, for heaven's sake, Roddy, don't be so dense. Who do you think it is? Who's been taking such an interest in our activities recently? Who did you see in the tunnel at Paddington? It's Scoop, isn't it?" She turned on Valentine, who ran a hand through his hair in resignation.

"So much for the Official Secrets Act," he said wearily. "Sometimes I don't know why I bother."

"You and me both," said Roddy, which earned him a sharp look. "So Adele's a spy now?"

"Officer Scoop…yes, all right, I can't deny it now, can I?" Valentine cast a wry glance at Rita, who was still glaring at him. "Why do I get the feeling that my role is going to be limited to exposition again? It was like this the last time."

Roddy winced at the memory. "So long as I don't end up hanging off a plane without my trousers again, that's all I ask."

"That's all I ask, too," said Rita. "I don't need to see that again."

"Oh, that's hardly fair Rita! The Toad took me by surprise! Did you notice how I was taken by surprise?"

"I think the no-trousers thing speaks for itself, don't you?" said Rita, grinning.

"Are you done now?" said Valentine, who had been watching the exchange politely.

"So what are you going to do now?" said Rita, turning her attention back to him. "Throw us back?"

"In a manner of speaking," Valentine nodded. "Look, you're not exactly who we were hoping to find here, but some good may still come of this."

"Sorry to disappoint," said Rita. "So what are you going to do now?"

Valentine cast Roddy an amused look. "Has she been like this long?"

"Election-eve jitters," lied Roddy.

Valentine accepted it. "Well, now we're going to go back to London. The two of you probably know enough to put Stough away and I'd rather arrest a candidate than try to indict a mayor. Don't look at me like that, Rita, in my line of work we need something called 'evidence' before we can start kicking down doors."

"You know what I'd call it?" said Rita.

"How about an _excellent idea_, Rita?" suggested Roddy. "We're going back to London, aren't we? I'd call that an outcome."

Rita subsided somewhat. She turned around to the policemen she had doused in brake fluid and gave them a small nod that still stopped some way short of being apologetic. Valentine called one of them over.

"Sergeant? Get up to signal control and sort it out, will you? We'll be leaving as soon as possible."

"Aye, sir!" The rat saluted and darted off.

"Signal control?" said Roddy.

"We can't exactly drive a train all the way to London without being noticed," said Valentine. "If we haven't sorted out all the signals along the way the humans will just pull the plug and bring us to a stop."

"You can drive a train?" said Rita sceptically.

"It's all just wires when you get right down to it," said Valentine, evasively. "Most things are."

"I thought that humans drove the trains?" Roddy said.

"That's all right. So do they," Valentine grinned. "I'd better help out with the signals."

He turned and followed his squad off, leaving Roddy who glanced back to see Rita's tail already disappearing into the train.

"Hang on! Don't you think we should wait?"

"On a scale of one to ten? No." Rita grinned down at him. "We're getting back and finishing this by ourselves. All aboard!"

Roddy looked at Valentine as he ducked into a vent and sighed.

"All right. Help me up, then."

* * *

Roddy followed her forward along the train until they reached the throbbing locomotive. Rita was eying the machinery with an appraising look. 

"Are you serious about this?" Roddy caught up with her.

"I'm always serious," said Rita.

"Hahaha, good one," said Roddy. "No, really. Do you know how to drive this thing?"

"Nope. But as Valentine said, it's all wires in the end." Rita spotted a way forwards and set off again, Roddy trailing after her as she ducked under a low-hanging beam.

"The same could be said about the space shuttle and I don't see you lining up to fly that! What if- ow!"

There was a metallic sound as Roddy's head bounced off the beam. He rubbed it ruefully and crept underneath it. Rita was standing under the driver's cabin looking for a way up.

"Look, I know you want to get back to help your father," said Roddy, "but we're no good to him dead! Why can't we wait for Valentine? He knows what he's doing."

"No, he doesn't," said Rita, knowingly. "You heard him when I asked if he could drive this. He hasn't a clue."

Roddy thought for a moment. "When you asked him that, he said exactly what you said when I asked you that."

"Yes, but I'm me," Rita flashed him a cocky grin.

"I'm glad you noticed," said Roddy. "Now, can we get back to my question?"

"What was that, Roddy?" said Rita, poking the metal above her head thoughtfully. "I'm afraid I wasn't really paying attention."

Roddy rolled his eyes. "This isn't one of those arguments I can win, is it?"

Rita frowned for a moment. "You know, I don't think I've ever heard of one of those."

Roddy laughed despite himself. "Oh, all right. What do you need?"

"Stand over here," said Rita. "And put your hands together."

Roddy did as he was told. Rita stepped up on his hand and balanced carefully on his shoulders.

"This brings back memories," said Roddy, indistinctly. He looked up at Rita and grinned.

"Keep your eyes on the game, Roddy," warned Rita, looking down.

"I thought I was," said Roddy. "But never mind. What are you doing?"

Rita touched the roof. "There's a rusty patch here that I think I can get through. Brace yourself, this is going to be tricky."

She drew back her fist and slammed it into the brown-stained metal, which parted under the blow like wet paper. A flurry of rust pattered down on Roddy and he tried to shield his eyes. Rita gave a whoop of triumph.

"It worked Roddy! Now stand still for a moment longer, I'm going in."

Roddy felt her shift and then her feet lifted off his shoulders. Rubbing them painfully, he looked up and saw Rita pulling herself into the cabin. She scrambled in and then reached back to haul Roddy after her.

"Nobody here, Roddy. It's all right."

Roddy straightened and looked around the empty cabin. Racks of humming controls seemed to take up most of the available surfaces and there was a swivel chair bolted to the floor in front of what looked like the main console. Rita was already scrambling up it. Roddy moved to follow her but she waved him back.

"Hold on, I need you to do something down there. You see that pedal?"

Roddy looked. There was indeed a pedal set into the floor.

"Yes?"

"I need you to find something to hold that down. It'll be a dead-man's pedal. If it's not pressed to the floor the safety systems will cut the engine and slam on the brakes."

"Why?" Roddy spotted a metal lunchbox, presumably the human driver's, and began pushing it over the pedal.

"In case the driver dies on the job," said Rita. She rolled onto the main console and spotted a rack of switches marked 'COUPLINGS'. She hit the first one and grinned when a distant _clunk_ indicated that the locomotive had unlocked itself from the train. Roddy scrambled up to join her.

"So you know what you're doing now?"

"Almost," said Rita. She looked around the panel and spotted the transmission controls. She shifted the switch up a notch and was gratified to hear the note of the engine change, but they still weren't moving.

"Just a thought," said Roddy cheerfully. "But maybe taking the brakes off would be a good idea?"

"Only maybe?" Rita looked around for them and then saw that Roddy was sitting on the lever, examining his fingernails. She pushed him off, rolling her eyes, and yanked hard on the control. The locomotive lurched and began rolling out of Waverley station, much to the surprise of the humans on the platform. Rita laughed victoriously as she switched the transmission over to automatic and eased open the throttle. Roddy joined her as they left Waverley and began heading south.

* * *

Valentine walked out of the vent followed by his squad and realised that there was less train than there used to be. Sighing, he looked down the tracks and saw the receding shape of the locomotive. 

"Why am I not surprised?" he muttered.

"Should we stop them, sir?" said the sergeant. "We can go back and reset the signals to stop them at the city limits."

"No, no. Let them go." Valentine allowed himself a small smile. "We'll get the next train."

"But sir, what about Stough?"

"Yes, it's unfortunate, I know. I almost feel sorry for him."

"Sir?" The sergeant frowned. Valentine shook his head.

"Never mind. Let them go. I know them. They'll be fine." The blue-eyed officer turned around and led his squad back into the vent. "I just hope we get there in time to save them."

"I thought you said they'd be fine, sir?"

"I wasn't talking about them."

* * *

Mr Malone was pacing in the candlelight that filled the town hall. A murmur of voices filled the air. Hanging above the stage was a banner that read LAST MAYORAL DEBATE, but nobody could read it in the darkness. Attempts to illuminate it by firelight had already cause the evacuation of the building once and Stough had vetoed any further efforts. 

"You all right, chief?"

Sid was standing nearby. He was still wearing his sunglasses. Mr Malone sighed.

"I'm over here, Sid," he said.

"Not having problems already, are you?" Bert Stough loomed out of the darkness, followed by the weirdly skeletal form of Ted.

"As a matter of fact, yes," said Mr Malone. "There's a really nasty piece of work trying to talk to me. But that's okay, because I'm going to beat him hollow and then use him as a piñata."

Stough grinned. "I hope you're going to be politer than that when we're on stage, Malone."

"Not that it'll matter," said Ted. Mr Malone glared at him.

"You're not even in this one, Thimblenose. Shove off before someone gets hurt."

Ted started forwards, but Stough put a hand on his shoulder and waved him off casually.

"No power yet," he said. "Your girl and her friend should be back by now. I do hope nothing has happened to them. That would be a shame. And a tragedy for you, of course."

Mr Malone gritted his teeth. "They'll be back."

"Oh, we'll see. Although if you keep breaking things like you've already done there might not be anything for them to come back to." Stough fingered his lapel absently. "Speaking of which, Malone…I'm still open to offers about your title deeds. It must have been an expensive campaign for you."

"You'll get that house over my dead body," said Mr Malone.

"You say that as if I'd find that an unacceptable proposal," said Stough. "But still, if you ever need to sell…my door is always open."

"Well, you can shut it again. And you can shut one or two other things while you're at it," said Mr Malone.

He turned to find Adele Scoop walking past Sid, who didn't see her coming. She gave the Chief Political Adviser a friendly nod and went up to the two candidates.

"Hello, Mr Stough."

"My dear Adele," said Stough, attempting to ooze affability. "What can I do for you?"

"Well, a minute with Mr Malone would be nice," said Adele brightly. Stough deflated somewhat.

"Be my guest," he muttered.

"No, I don't think I will be. But thanks all the same." Adele smiled at Stough and led Mr Malone off to one side.

"What is it?" asked Mr Malone. "How are you back here at all? This is a candidates-and-staff only area!"

"I have my ways and means," said Adele. "Now listen. What are you doing after the debate?"

Mr Malone raised an eyebrow. "Thanks for the offer, but you know I'm already married, right?"

Adele sighed in frustration. "Not like that! Seriously, where are you going?"

"I was just going to go home until tomorrow when voting starts," said Mr Malone. "Why?"

Adele lowered her voice. "I don't think that'd be a very good idea. I'd prefer it if you didn't go home."

Mr Malone stared. "Where else should I go? Adele? What do you know that I don't."

She grinned. "I probably know a lot that you don't, Mr Malone." She shot a sideways glance at Stough. Mr Malone caught it and grimaced.

"You think he'll try something?"

"You think he won't?" Adele looked at him seriously and then wandered off. Mr Malone was still deep in thought when Sid poked him from behind.

"Boss? You'd better get out there!" He pointed on stage, where the adjudicator was calling the candidates up. There were cheers at Mr Malone's name. He took a deep breath and straightened his tie.

"Well, here goes nothing."

* * *

Twilight passed quickly, the low clouds soon blocking out the setting sun. Rita switched on the locomotive's headlights, which threw a trident of light into the gathering gloom, and sat on the top of the control panel. Roddy checked the speed and went to join her. 

"Well, this doesn't turn out to be so bad," he said.

"See? All you need is a little confidence in me." Rita smiled but didn't look at him. Roddy shifted closer to her and put his arm around her.

"You know I have a little confidence in you, Rita. In fact I'd be hard-pushed to have less. Much like you and my navigation skills."

"What navigation skills?"

"You see, you think you're funny sometimes, but you're not." Roddy smiled.

"I was trying to be funny then?" Rita grinned and put her own arm around Roddy's waist. "You should probably get some sleep. There'll be a lot to do when we get back to London."

"You'd better sleep first," said Roddy. "You're the one driving this thing so you're the one who will have to stop it."

Rita yawned and nodded. "All right, fair enough. Wake me in a couple of hours." She kissed him lightly and curled up on the nearest piece of flat surface. Roddy looked back out the windscreen. The tracks glinted in the headlights and seemed to go on forever. He squinted as he saw something ahead- a distant but brilliant spark that seemed to be right in their path.

"Easy, old man," he said to himself. "Valentine fixed the signals. We're clear all the way south."

_Actually, Valentine said he was _going_ to fix the signals. We left before he could confirm that it was done._

_And now I really, really wish I hadn't thought of that._

Roddy swallowed and moved over to the brake controls. The ideal, of course, would be to push the lunchbox off the dead man's switch below, but that meant leaving the windscreen and losing sight of the distant light. Or lights, as it now seemed. Three of them, just like on their locomotive. It was a northbound train.

_Two trains each going 120 miles per hour_, Roddy thought, _Which adds up to a closing speed of 240 miles per hour._

Roddy had little real conception of what 240 miles per hour looked like, but his graphic imagination threw up multiple versions of 240 miles per hour when applied very suddenly to a locomotive, not to mention himself and Rita. He looked up at the lights again. As the distance between them closed, it was starting to seem as if they weren't on a head-on course. A second track emerged from the darkness to Roddy's left and began running parallel to them, giving him cause for optimism. He glanced over his shoulder at Rita's motionless form and wondered whether to wake her.

"Please let me be right," he muttered as the northbound train drew into sight. It was a freighter, hauling hundreds of tons of steel and tanker trucks north to Inverness- and it was on the other track. Roddy breathed a sigh of relief as it shot past them with a blare of horn and a rush of slipstream that rattled the windscreen wipers.

* * *

After a while Roddy looked around and located a box of tissues. He dragged a couple of them out and draped them gently over Rita as an improvised blanket. 

"Thank you, Roddy," she whispered, pulling them up to her shoulders.

"I didn't mean to wake you," he said apologetically.

"You didn't," Rita opened an eye and smiled at him. "Are you sure you don't want to sleep now? There's room under here for two." She moved aside.

Roddy smiled back. "There's nothing I'd like better, but someone should stay on watch and make sure we don't end up in Bristol or someplace by mistake."

He kissed her forehead and went back to the top of the control panel. A light drizzle was falling and he located the windscreen wiper switch. The rubber blades had not been maintained and they squeaked across the wet glass noisily. After a few moments, Rita joined him, draping half of her blanket around him.

"Shouldn't you be sleeping?" he asked.

"With this noise going on, I'm lucky if I can hear myself think," said Rita.

"Oh, I think you'd need to be pretty lucky even without this noise," said Roddy. Rita laughed and rested against him.

"It's meant a lot to me and my dad that you've gone along with all of this," she said.

"I didn't know I had a choice," said Roddy. He grinned at her. "Don't worry. I wouldn't have missed any of it. Well, most of it."

She smiled and relaxed slightly. "We couldn't have done it without you."

"We haven't won yet," pointed out Roddy. "And it's all right. This is what family is for, after all. It matters to him, which means it matters to you, and that means it matters to me. All for one and one for all."

"It does matter to me. Perhaps…perhaps too much." Rita sighed. "Have I taken this too seriously, Roddy?"

He was silent for a moment. "Not considering what Stough did to your family, not at all. But be careful. As I say, we haven't won yet and you've invested so much of yourself in this. I'm afraid about what will happen if we don't win."

Now it was Rita's turn to be silent.

"This is the part where you reassure me that you haven't invested too much in this and everything will be fine whatever the outcome," prompted Roddy.

Rita shook her head. "I never promise what I'm not certain I can deliver. I'm so sorry. I just don't know what'll happen if we lose. I just don't know. It scares me too, Roddy, and I don't scare easily."

Roddy held her closer and sighed. "I know you don't. Just remember that whatever happened in the past, and whatever is going to happen now, I'll always be here for you."

"What would I do without you?" Rita smiled in the darkness of the cabin.

"A lot of misguided things, I have no doubt." Roddy patted her. "We really should get some sleep."

Rita nodded and closed her eyes. Her head was resting on Roddy's chest, and despite the muffled rumble of the engines and the squeak of the windscreen wipers, she could hear his steady heartbeat. Shutting out all other sounds, she concentrated on its rhythm as she felt sleep finally overtake her.


	5. The Storm Breaks

"It's a matter of trust," Stough was saying. "Who do you trust to run this city the way it ought to be run? Who do you trust to keep government off your backs to let you get on with things? Life down here is hard enough without the mayor's office involved with your affairs!"

There was some applause from the crowd. Stough turned to Mr Malone with a satisfied smirk on his face.

"Mr Malone, your right of reply?" Adele Scoop, who was leading the panel of journalists asking the questions, looked at him. Mr Malone took a deep breath.

"Well, firstly hearing Bert Stough talking about trust is like hearing fish talking about air. It isn't his natural environment and he'd choke to death if he suddenly found himself in it."

Laughter rippled through the crowd as Stough glowered.

"Mr Malone, I must ask you to stick to the point," said Adele, who was grinning broadly.

He nodded. "Fair enough. What I'd say to that is that if Stough thinks that government is a bad thing, why's he running for it? Government _should_ be involved in everyday life, it should be making things _better_. As mayor, I won't use 'small government' as an excuse to do nothing. I want to fix this city and I can't do that by keeping my hands off. If you don't want that in your mayor, don't vote for me."

This time the applause was more sustained. Mr Malone looked over to the wings where Sid gave him a thumbs-up and mimed slamming a basketball into a hoop. Up above, in a cradle hanging from the ceiling, a gang of slugs finally managed to push the battery-powered penlight into position to throw its beam onto Mr Malone, who turned back to the crowd and waved happily.

"All I can say to that is that I'm glad you want to fix the city," said Stough, for the first time allowing a flash of anger into his tone, which had hitherto been as plain and well-oiled as an assassin's dagger. "Because it was you who broke it, after all. We're standing here in the dark because of your carelessness."

Mr Malone bridled. He had understood that no political hay would be made of that, at least before Roddy and Rita got back, but he could hardly say that in public.

"How can someone who can't even check a power coupling say they are fit to hold the mayoral office?" continued Stough.

"Since it's my daughter who is out there now to fix it, Bert, I think you could show some respect," said Mr Malone, coolly. "I don't remember you suiting up to get out there and do any work."

Adele's eyes flickered from one candidate to the other. She could feel that the debate was about to become extremely personal and she was worried where that could lead.

"Um, if I could just interject," she began.

"I don't remember you volunteering," snapped Stough, ignoring her. "In fact you outright objected to the plan to fix the power grid."

"You know perfectly well why," growled Mr Malone. In the wings, Sid was going silently apoplectic, despite the theoretical obstacles to the feat. Ted appeared behind him, wearing the nearest thing he got to a nasty grin.

"Of course I don't know why," said Stough smoothly. "But you were always a one to let your family fight your battles, weren't you?"

For a moment Adele was convinced that Mr Malone was going to hurl himself across the stage. The crowd gasped and whispered as everyone present realised that the line-you-do-not-cross was now disappearing into the rear-view mirror.

"Keep my family out of this, Bert," said Mr Malone quietly.

"Since you've chosen to shackle yourself to them at every opportunity this campaign, I don't see why," said Stough. "Except your wife, of course. How is the dear Mrs Malone these days anyway?"

Mr Malone glared. Adele Scoop stood up and banged on the table as hard as she could.

"Gentlemen!" she shouted. "If you cannot control yourselves, I will ask that this debate be called off! This benefits nobody!"

"I think we've covered all the ground we need to cover, my dear," said Stough. He walked off without shaking Mr Malone's hand. Mr Malone was left on stage alone for a few seconds before marching off as well, leaving the audience even more confused and Adele looking very close to panic.

"Hi, boss," said Sid, nervously. "Um…well…that was…interesting."

"If there hadn't been so many witnesses, I'd have walked off that stage alone," muttered Mr Malone.

"You did walk off alone, though," pointed out Sid. "Stough left before you."

"That's not what I meant," said Mr Malone. "Let's just get out of here."

"Righto, chief," said Sid, fidgeting. "It's just…"

"What?"

Mr Malone looked around and saw Stough blocking his path.

"Get out of the way, Bert, now is not the time," he said.

"Now is _exactly_ the time," said Stough. "You need to watch yourself, Malone, you could very quickly find yourself creating a lot of trouble."

"Don't threaten me, Bert," said Mr Malone.

"I wasn't threatening _you_," said Stough.

Mr Malone stared. "Who were you threatening, then? And what do you think you're playing at by attacking my family in this? You think this election means so much to me that I'll let you get away with that?"

"You'll have to, chief," said Sid, tugging his sleeve and trying to lead him away. "Just for now. Come on. You said you wanted to go so let's go."

Mr Malone glared for a moment longer and then subsided. He marched off, leaving his Chief Political Adviser scurrying in his wake. Bert Stough watched them go and then beckoned Thimblenose Ted out of the shadow he was lurking in.

"Is everything ready, Ted?"

"Ready when you are, boss," growled the former henchrat. "Should I give the word?"

"Not just yet," said Stough, smiling thinly. "Not just yet."

* * *

The drizzle had turned into a downpour by the time Rita woke up. It was pitch black outside except for the triple beam of the locomotive's headlights. She realised that she had fallen asleep across Roddy and sat up hastily, trying to flick her hair back into place. She looked at the digital clock set into the console and realised that they must nearly be there- it was slightly over four hours since they had left Edinburgh. 

"Wake up, Roddy," she said. "We must be nearly there."

Roddy snorted once or twice and blinked as he woke up. "Nearly where?"

"Nearly home," Rita stood up and slid down the control panel. "Try to figure out where we are. We should be able to see London pretty soon."

Roddy stood up and stretched. "Why me?"

"Because, as you're so fond of pointing out, you're a born navigator."

"Hmm? Oh, right. Yes, yes I am. And there aren't many of us out there so you should be grateful that you have me." Roddy rubbed his eyes. Rita grinned.

"I thought there was one born every minute," she said.

"Spare me the legendary Malone wit, please," said Roddy. "It's too early in the morning. Or night. Whatever this is." He looked around. "Are you sure there are even any maps in here?"

"Nope," said Rita.

"Well, I can hardly navigate without them," said Roddy. "I can't _divine_ our location. I'm a navigator, not a medium."

"I wouldn't even have called you a small. Besides, Christopher Columbus crossed the Atlantic without maps," said Rita. "As you once told me."

"Yes, and I also remember telling you that he thought he was in Japan when he reached the other side." Roddy sighed. "But I'll do my best in the absence of maps. Bring me my ouiji board and a magic wand of some kind."

Rita laughed and Roddy looked out the window as an illuminated sign flashed past, too fast for him to be able to read it. He looked ahead, and saw a distant yellow spark on the tracks.

"I think we should slow down," said Rita. "In this weather it might be harder to stop this thing."

"Good idea," said Roddy. He turned up the windscreen wipers and peered at the distant spark, remembering the northbound train that had scared him outside Edinburgh. There was no parallel track this time, however.

"Do you have any idea what that could be?" he said. Rita looked up from the transmission controls, which she had been using to slow them down, and clambered up next to him. She looked at the light.

"Oncoming train?" she suggested.

"I thought Valentine had the signals sorted out," said Roddy. "And train lights are white. That looks yellow."

"There's probably more than one sort of train," said Rita.

Roddy nodded uncomfortably. "Well, whatever it is, I think we should probably be slowing down a bit more, don't you?"

"You're no fun, Roddy," said Rita, grinning.

"I'm all in favour of playing chicken," said Roddy. "But this is a train. And the thing about trains, as I told you before, is that they run on tracks and can't get out of the way even if they want to."

"You seem a little nervous about it," said Rita.

Roddy explained what had happened outside Edinburgh. "I don't want to test our luck much more. We'll need as much as we can get when we're back in London."

Rita nodded. Ahead of them, the yellow light had resolved itself into two yellow lights, one on either side of the track, flashing brightly. She patted Roddy comfortingly and went to close the throttle again. Roddy looked out of the window again as another sign flashed past.

ALBAN CREEK CROSSING- 1Mi

One mile? Roddy stared at the yellow lights, trying to judge distance. A creek crossing would be a low bridge, just a cursory structure that kept the tracks out of the water. Why would one have flashing lights on it? Unless…

There was a momentary break in the rainfall, brought about by a lucky squall. Roddy looked through the suddenly-clear glass and saw why the lights were on.

"Rita! Brake now!"

"What?" She looked around in surprise.

"Brake now! Right now!" Roddy leapt from the top of the control panel and began frantically clambering down to the floor, where he began straining at the lunchbox holding down the dead man's switch. Rita closed the throttle completely, but it wasn't enough. The emergency brake switch was too high for either of them to reach.

"We're still moving, Roddy!" she shouted.

"You're telling me!" he replied, shifting the lunchbox inch by agonising inch, his mind's eye picturing the train thundering closer and closer to a black hole.

Rita turned back to the throttle and pushed it into reverse. There was a hideous screech of tearing metal as the violent change shredded the transmission, which exploded colourfully, leaving the runaway locomotive trailing sparks behind it. Rita hissed a curse and dropped down to join Roddy. Together they finally pushed the box aside and the safety switch activated, cutting the engine and slamming on the emergency brakes. Roddy and Rita were thrown by the sudden deceleration. And then the train reached the creek.

Roddy knew that when one was about to die, the world seemed to go into slow-motion as the brain tried to make the most of its last few seconds of usefulness. Since meeting Rita, this had been confirmed multiple times and so he was not unsurprised when it happened now. He was suddenly aware of the pattern of rust around the edge of the floor, of the texture of the metal pedal lever, of the expression on Rita's face as she threw her arms up to shield herself and break her fall. There was a strange feeling of weightlessness as the locomotive began tilting. Then there was a screech of metal that made the shredding transmission sound like Elgar, a crackle of breaking glass and an impact so violent that he was sure it would shake him apart. They slammed into the side of the cabin. The lights went out, and Roddy felt Rita take his hand as chilling water surged in around them.

* * *

"I shouldn't have let him get to me," said Mr Malone. "It was unprofessional." 

He was lying on the couch at home. Mrs Malone was sitting beside him, rubbing his back comfortingly.

"It's all right, dear. I don't think the Dalai Lama could stomach being on a stage with him for that long."

Mr Malone forced a smile. "Still…I think that might have blown it. I mean, if the power thing hadn't blown it already. I should probably go to the office right now and hand in my concession."

Mrs Malone shook her head. "There's no need for that, dear. You're still in this! You heard them applaud when you spoke. I still have confidence in you."

"Well, that's one vote at least."

Mrs Malone looked at her husband. Pessimism wasn't his natural state of being and she was deeply worried.

"Are you upset about tonight, dear? Or are you just worried about losing?"

"Well, both," said Mr Malone. "And about Rita and Roddy. They should be back by now."

"I'm sure they're fine wherever they are," said Mrs Malone. "And you shouldn't keep blaming yourself for that. And you shouldn't blame yourself for a lot of other things, too." She took Mr Malone's hand and placed it on her stomach. "Don't think you have to win this for me."

Mr Malone sighed. "If only it was that easy."

"You'll still beat him, dad," said a daughter.

Mr Malone smiled. "We'll see."

Mrs Malone smiled back. "Yes, we will. But not if you're still around here moping. Election day is tomorrow. You need to get out there and get the hustings ready."

"Yes. Of course. You'll be all right here?" Mr Malone stood up, but looked back at his wife.

"I always have been, haven't I?" said Mrs Malone. "Well, mostly. What's got you so nervous? I know Stough said some nasty things at the debate, but you don't really think he means them do you?"  
Mr Malone didn't reply. Suddenly Adele's pre-debate warning seemed a great deal more plausible.

* * *

Rita surfaced, spitting out water. Roddy was a little way off, floundering around, until he reached shallow water and stood up. 

"That wasn't too bad, was it?" he said, gasping.

Rita looked around. The storm had half-demolished the creek crossing, setting off the yellow warning lights they had seen. Their locomotive, or what was left of it, was on its side in the creek. Mud covered every surface, but at least the mud and the still-driving rain had prevented any danger of a fire. Her head was still ringing with the sound of the crash and she saw little white sparks every time she closed her eyes.

"It's as bad as I'd want it," she said. "Are you all right?"

"I've been better, but could be a lot worse." Roddy wrung out his shirt, a pointless exercise in the rain. "Well, at least I'm still breathing."

"It might be a little while before we can find out about brain damage, though," said Rita, putting a hand to her head.

Roddy grinned. "You're all right, I take it? I see your sense of humour is mercifully unaffected."

"I'm fine," said Rita. "We should get out of here, though. Someone's bound to have seen us go off the rails."

Roddy nodded and pointed to the bank, where the lunchbox was resting. "Think that'll float? This creek looks like it runs south, and that's where we need to be."

Rita waded over to the box and rapped on its aluminium sides. "Should do. If this is Alban Creek it'll be taken into an underground pipe a few miles downstream and that'll get us back to London. Pretty fast with a flow like this behind it, too."

"Good. Hang on a moment, I think we've forgotten something."

"What?" Rita was puzzled. Roddy went back to the wrecked train and began monkeying around amid the twisted steel.

"What are you doing? Are you crazy?" Rita went to help him.

"If I'm crazy, then I don't want to be sane," said Roddy. "I'm trying to find one of those transformer things. We might as well try to do what we were sent to do in the first place." He located a promising piece of engine and pried it open. Rita looked inside and saw the component. As far as she could see, it had survived the crash, although it had been shaken loose from its mounting. It was the work of a few moments to pull it out completely and wrap in with a rag. Rita slung it over her back and returned to the lunchbox.

"Think you could give us a hand with this?" she said.

Roddy joined her and they began pushing the lunchbox into the current, being sure to keep a grip on the handle.

"So we'll get home anyway? The crew of the _Jammy Dodger_ survives again!"

Rita grimaced. "Survives for now, more like it. I can't see any way to steer this thing."

Roddy sighed. "It's never easy, is it?"

"Nope," said Rita. "That's what keeps it interesting."

They reached midstream, battling to stay on their feet.

"All right, on the count of three, jump in," said Roddy, gritting his teeth.

"Why not just get in now?" said Rita.

He grinned. "That's not very systematic, is it?"

"Systematic nothing," said Rita. "Tell you what, I'll get in now and count to three so you can get in afterwards."

"You think I'd trust you counting to three? Suddenly I like your plan a lot more."

Rita laughed. They scrambled up the handle and into the lunchbox as the current took it and whisked it away downstream. Behind them at the crash site, the first of the red and blue lights had appeared to investigate.

* * *

Sid hit his thumb with the hammer again and moaned, sticking the offended article into his armpit and hopping from one foot to the other. Mr Malone sighed. 

"You'd do better if you took them glasses off, Sid, I keep telling you this."

"I know, boss," said Sid ruefully. "But I think they're…cool. You know, stylish."

"I do know stylish," said Mr Malone. "And they ain't met him."

He turned back to the poster he was nailing to the fence and heard footsteps approaching. Mr Malone turned around to see Colin the police officer standing behind him, looking uncomfortable.

"Hello, Col," he said. "What's up?"

"Good day, um, Mr Malone." Colin glanced around nervously and then leaned closer and lowered his voice. "I just want you to know, that this wasn't my choice and it ain't personal."

"What isn't personal?" Mr Malone put down his hammer.

Thimblenose Ted stepped out from behind Colin, smirking unpleasantly.

"Oh, what's he doing here?" Mr Malone glared.

Colin heaved a sigh. "Mr Malone, I am arresting you for misuse of city property in a manner endangering lives and for causing a very large amount of trouble."

"Come quietly and there'll be nobody hurt," said Ted.

"You've got that half right, Thimblenose," said Mr Malone. He looked around for Sid, who had scarpered. "But if you think I've caused a lot of trouble already, I'm only just getting started. And I'm sorry, Col, but you're wrong as well. This _is_ personal."

* * *

The lunchbox scraped down the side of the tunnel, span around a few times and almost rolled over. Roddy staggered to his feet. 

"I think I'm getting seasick," he muttered. "This stopped being fun a long time ago. How far do you think we have to go?"

Rita looked around, entirely unconcerned by the rough passage of the box. "Not too far now. Probably less than a mile. No time at all at this speed."

"I'd be willing to lose some speed in exchange for some stability," groaned Roddy. He put a hand to his head. "Oh, this is worse than I thought it would be and I didn't think it would be very nice…"

Rita watched him sympathetically. The lunchbox was profoundly not the _Jammy Dodger_ and the most that could be said for it was that it floated better than a brick. But with no propulsion or rudder, it was impossible to handle and the current flowing down the storm drain tossed it about at a whim. She tied the transformer tighter around her and shook her hair to shake the water out of it. The tunnel walls flashed past in a blur, but Rita had developed her sense of direction under circumstances like these and her internal compass had never led her astray.

Well, not more than once or twice, anyway.

"Close the lid," she said suddenly.

"You what?" Roddy stared. "Bad enough getting seasick but now you think claustrophobia would be a good idea?"

"Beats drowning," said Rita. She pointed ahead, where the flowing water seemed to disappear. There was a distant thundering. A waterfall where the high storm drain met the lower trunk tunnel. Roddy sighed and stoically helped Rita pull the lunchbox lid down, sealing them into inky, bumpy blackness.

"It'll be all right, Roddy," said Rita comfortingly, feeling about until she located Roddy's hand. His fur was damp with water, but his touch was cold. He was clearly terrified, but seemed to be controlling it well.

"Just so long as it's fast," said Roddy, teeth chattering.

Rita squeezed his hand and opened her mouth to say something, but then the floor dropped out from underneath them. There was a sickening feeling of weightlessness as they went over the waterfall, and then a bone-jarring impact as they hit the bottom. Water seeped into the box for a few seconds before it surfaced again and Rita leapt to her feet, punching open the lid. In the wider trunk tunnel, the current was much less violent. It bore them swiftly but steadily, and Rita breathed a sigh of relief as she helped Roddy to his feet.

"We're nearly there, Roddy. This should run right under Paddington. We'll be back at the _Dodger_ in no time."

"You're not kidding," said Roddy. "Just out of interest, are you sure you tied her up properly?"

"What, the _Dodger_? As if I ever don't! What makes you ask?"

Roddy pointed a shaky finger. A red and white boat was bobbing along on the current a little way off. Rita stared at it.

"Well…I thought I tied it up properly…" she muttered.

"You thought?"

"Yes!"

"I'm genuinely impressed. Can we get on board a proper boat now, please?"

Roddy grinned weakly. Rita rolled her eyes and watched as the flow brought the box alongside the _Jammy Dodger II._ Moving from one moving vessel to another was a finely-honed skill and dangerous at the best of times. With the flow as strong as it was, this was not the best of times. If she fell in, there was no way to get back.

"Are you sure this is safe?" said Roddy, noticing that as well.

"Of course it isn't," said Rita. "But we've got no choice, have we? If you fall in, just remember this- never, ever try to swim against an opposing current. Swim across it." She returned her gaze to the _Jammy Dodger II_.

Hands around her waist broke her concentration and she looked around as Roddy tied them together with the grapnel line.

"Good idea," she muttered. "Now hang on."

She waited until the two hulls touched, and made her jump as they began drifting apart. Rita's hands grabbed onto the railing of the _Jammy Dodger II_ and strained to hold her as her feet went into the water.

"Rita!" Roddy looked set to follow her. She shook her head and hauled herself up painfully.

"I'm all right! Hold on!"

Rita gritted her teeth and redoubled her efforts. She felt a weight fall from her shoulders and looked around to see the transformer slip out of its sling and fall into the torrent.

"No!" She grabbed for it, but it was far too late. She and Roddy watched it be swept away. She tried not to think what the loss could mean for her father, and swung a leg over the railings. Rita dropped onto the bucking deck and turned back. Roddy waited for the two to drift together again, and then jumped. His damp hand slipped off the railing and he plunged into the swift-moving water. Rita gasped and quickly wrapped the grapnel line around the railings, bracing herself for the shock when it reached full extension. She was nearly pulled off her feet and winced as the railing dug into her ribs.

"Rita!" Roddy broke the surface for long enough to shout her name before being pulled under again by the current.

"You're not getting away with it that easily, Roddy!" she shouted, heaving on the line.

Roddy felt the line tighten around his waist and struck out for the boat, fighting the water as best as he could. He remembered Rita's advice and tried swimming across the powerful currents rather than against them. Despite all probability, it seemed to work. A hand reached over the side of the boat and gripped Roddy's wrist so tightly that it hurt. Rita hauled him out of the water and helped him climb dripping onto the deck.

"Thank you," said Roddy, breathlessly wringing out his sleeves.

"You're welcome," said Rita, panting with effort. She looked around the boat and shook her head in wonderment. "Come on, let's get the engine started and go home."


	6. Election Day

The _Jammy Dodger II_ battled its way into Ratropolis. The canals were virtually deserted as there were few boats in the city capable of fighting the torrents that raced through them, carrying a cargo of flotsam that was caught in the city's salvage nets. Roddy caught Rita eyeing one or two particularly choice pieces and coughed warningly.

"Eyes front, trooper," he said.

"Yes, sir," said Rita, smiling.

Roddy blinked. "Well…that was unexpected. Who are you and what have you done with Rita? Or could it be that you're developing a certain respect for me?"

"Stranger things have happened, Roddy, but not as many as you'd think." Rita grinned and pointed ahead of them. "See? Your fan club is already waiting for us."

Roddy looked. Adele was standing on the dockside with a handful of other rats. She noticed the _Jammy Dodger II_ approaching and waved it over.

"Roddy! Over here!"

"What's the problem, Scoop?" shouted Rita as they came alongside.

"It's Stough! He's had your father arrested!"

Rita froze. "He's what? That double-crosser! He said he wouldn't!"

"And you believed him?"

"Not really, but still…I thought I'd at least be here!" Rita thumped the wheel in anger. "I've got to go and help him!"

"I'll go," said Roddy. "You need to get back and check on your family."

Rita stared at him as she realised that he could be right. What if Stough had attacked her house again? The thought chilled her.

"I'll be all right," said Roddy. "We've dealt with worse than Stough before. Go, Rita, you'll catch me up quickly enough!"

He was already clambering over the rail. Rita watched him go, clearly torn between going with him and her family. She sighed and made her decision.

"Fine, I'll be back soon! Be careful and don't do anything I wouldn't do!"

"That's some fine mutually exclusive advice there, Rita, I'll bear at least half of it in mind!" Roddy grinned encouragingly and saluted her. "Godspeed, captain!"

Rita returned the salute, her heart pounding, and opened the throttle to take the boat back into the channels. Roddy watched her go and then turned to Adele and the others. He recognised most of their faces from the campaign rallies, but couldn't put a name to any of them.

"And when were you going to tell me who you really were, Adele?" he said.

"You what?" she blinked in surprise.

"We went to Edinburgh. We met Valentine. We know what's going on."

"You do? Oh…right. Sorry about that."

"On the subject of things you should be sorry for," said Roddy. 'What were you playing at in the tunnel at Paddington with the bricks?"

"Oh…that. Yes." Adele had the decency to look embarrassed. "Well, we thought that Stough was going to send someone, but I only found out it was you at the last minute. I figured that something had to be awry so…I tried to think of a way to stop you going to Paddington."

"By dropping bricks on us?" Roddy asked.

Adele shook her head frantically. "_Near_ you! _Near _you! We never meant to hit you. Just…discourage you. I guess I misjudged the determination of my audience," she finished, with a telling nod in the direction of Rita's exit.

"You're not wrong," said Roddy, with feeling. "Now-"

"Sorry, ma'am," said one of the others. "But do we have time for this?"

"Valentine isn't here yet," said Adele. "Why didn't he come with you, Roddy?"

Roddy coughed a little, remembering that they had left him behind in Scotland.

"He might be a while," he said vaguely. "It's up to us for now."

He looked up to the Floodgate Control Tower and shivered. "Let's get this over with."

Adele looked at him and sighed. "Well, I knew this wasn't going to be a textbook operation. All right. But we don't know what's going on in there. Mr Malone could be in danger."

"I'll go in first," said Roddy, setting off. "If Stough sees you kicking in his doors he might do something irrational."

"Because nobody ever acts irrational around you, Roddy?" said Adele, grinning.

"They do, but it's mainly Rita," said Roddy. "And thus can be discounted."

Adele laughed. "She's very involved in this, isn't she?"

Roddy looked at her and remembered that she didn't know about the Malone's past with Bert Stough.

"She takes things seriously," he said.

Adele nodded. "Well, here goes nothing, Roddy. You've got ten minutes before I start throwing stun grenades through the windows."

Roddy set off and did a double-take.

"You have stun grenades?"

Adele sighed wistfully. "If only."

"That's what I thought," Roddy looked up at the darkened windows and braced himself. "I'll see you in ten minutes, then."

* * *

Inside the mayoral offices, it was dark and silent. Roddy crept into the reception area and realised that there was nobody there despite the large piles of boxes stacked around the room. He straightened up and peered around before he heard voices, apparently coming from the wall. A faint glow of candelight traced the outline of a door. Roddy pushed it open gently and stuck his head through. 

Mr Malone was sitting in a chair to which his ankles had been tied. A table had been set up in front on him with a piece of paper on it. Candles glowed around him. Bert Stough was standing in front of the desk, the mayoral chains glittering around his neck.

"I'm not signing anything, Bert," said Mr Malone. "Take it away."

"I'm going to make this as simple for you as possible, Malone," said Stough evenly. "You are under arrest. Now, you're free to apply for bail, but if you do I will need a surety consisting of your property. If you don't want to apply for bail, you'll need money for a legal defence which will require you to sell your property. It is also, however, possible that I will be munificent enough to forget all of this and let you go."

"In exchange for my property?" said Mr Malone.

"Indeed."

"Forget it. You're not getting your hands on that house while there's a Malone inside it." Mr Malone glared defiantly.

"That can also be arranged," said Stough. "But this is better for both of us. Just sign the deed over to me, and you can walk out of here."

"And what about the election? You know I'll beat you, Bert, don't lie. I'm not getting out of here before the votes are counted."

Roddy moved slightly. A stack of boxes collapsed over him. Cursing, he looked down at them and widened his eyes in shock. They were ballot boxes, stuffed full of votes- despite the fact that the polls hadn't opened yet. Roddy picked one up and looked at it. It was for Stough, as were all of the others. But the noise had attracted some unwanted attention. A hand fastened itself on his shoulder and propelled him through the door into the candlelit room. Thimblenose Ted stepped through after him, shutting the door as he came. Roddy staggered and looked up at Stough and Mr Malone.

"Roddy!" said Mr Malone. "I was so worried! How's Rita?"

"She's fine," said Roddy. "But your game's up Stough, you won't get off for this one!" He waved the forged ballot paper triumphantly.

Stough smiled at him. "So you two made it back after all. I would normally call that a pity…but under the circumstances it might not be so bad."

"It's worse than you can comprehend, Stough," said Mr Malone, grinning.

"Oh, yes…but not for me." Stough pointed to the fridge, standing darkly in the corner. "Ted?"

Roddy had just enough time to work out what was happening before he was pushed to the ground and bound hand and foot.

"Now your choice is even easier, Malone," said Stough as Ted hustled Roddy towards the fridge. "Sign the deeds, or your daughter's friend here will suffer a very nasty accident indeed!"

"That ain't going to work, Bert," said Mr Malone. "The power's off, remember! That thing don't work any more."

Stough grinned. "Doesn't it now? Ted?"

Thimblenose grinned and threw the switch to open the door. The chill hit Roddy immediately as he stared into the interior of the Ice Maker for the first time since he and Rita as escaped the Toad. Mr Malone also felt the cold breeze and he paused in shock.

"Not everything in this city runs off the power supply you so inconsiderately broke," said Stough, climbing the steps to the control panel. "Humans, whatever their faults, know how to build things." He punched a button. With a whirr of machinery, the lights flickered back on. A glow from beyond the window indicated that power had been restored to the city as well.

"You set it up!" shouted Roddy. "You set it all up to get Rita and I away so you could do this!"

"Yes, I think that much is obvious," said Stough.

"You're a nasty piece of work," snapped Mr Malone. "Just when I think you couldn't get much lower, you come out with this."

Stough ignored the insult. "You still haven't given me my answer," he said. He pushed the paper towards Mr Malone. "Sign it, or young St. James becomes an exhibit."

Mr Malone's eyes flickered from Roddy to the paper, and then he sagged visibly.

"All right," he muttered. "Give me the pen."

"No! Don't!" Roddy called. He had lost track of time, but surely Adele and her squad would be here soon? He couldn't let Mr Malone give the game away at the last minute.

"Son?" Mr Malone gaped.

"It'll be all right!" Roddy strained against his bindings. "Don't worry about me! You've got to think about your family! What'll happen to them if you give him the house?"

"What'll happen to you if I don't?" Mr Malone looked agonised. "I've got to, Roddy, I can't have you on my conscience as well!"

"I know what happened!" Roddy looked at him. "Rita told me! Trust me, Mr Malone!"

Stough lost his patience. "Ice him!" he snapped.

Ted pushed Roddy into the Ice Maker and slammed the door as the glass descended over him.

_Well, this is familiar,_ thought Roddy. _Pity Rita's not here this time. I could do with her help_. He shivered. _Maybe this wasn't such as good idea…where's Adele? And Valentine? When's Rita getting back?_

He heard the machinery hiss into life and looked up in horror at the nozzles that emptied the water and liquid nitrogen into the glass.

_Maybe it isn't all that bad. After all, Spike and Whitey survived it and still chased us._

_Although they had each other's body heat, I guess…and they were only iced for a few seconds. Oh, dear. Think warming thoughts, Roddy, think warming thoughts!_

"So sad it had to be this way," said Stough. "But you had your chance to save him. Now, Ted. Do it now."

Roddy curled up into a ball to preserve his body warmth and began hoping for a miracle. Those stun grenades would be a start. He tried not to think about what was about to happen, and took a deep breath of air, trying to think of a thought that might sustain him, or at least be a good one to die with.

_I love you, Rita._

He smiled at the four simple words. That would do. He spoke them aloud as the hiss of pressure rose.

He was still repeating them to himself when the cold enveloped him.

* * *

Rita burst through the door of the family home brandishing a boathook and looking for someone to kill. She was somewhat taken aback to be confronted with the usual scene of domestic chaos, with the interesting additions of Sid, who was looking panicky and tried to hide behind a cushion at the sight of the boathook, and Harold the ex-prophet, who was looking more-than-usually depressed. Candles were propped in the corners of the room. 

"Rita! You're back! We were so worried, you were gone for so long!" Mrs Malone came out of the kitchen wiping her hands. She went to hug her daughter, but Rita was still moving. She crossed to the mantelpiece where Roddy's sabre was sitting in a bracket.

"Rita? What are you doing?"

"Haven't you heard about dad?" Rita picked up the weapon and drew it, turning it this way and that to see how the golden light fell across the blade.

"Well, yes, Sid told me…" Mrs Malone looked flustered. "But-"

Rita cut off her mother and explained the rest of it.

"So you're taking Roddy's sword?"

"Yes," said Rita simply. "I'm going to turn it sideways and shove it up Stough's-" She stopped herself just in time. "I mean, I'm going to get dad and Roddy back."

Mrs Malone opened her mouth to reply just as the electric lights blazed back on.

"Power's back!" said Harold. "That didn't take as long as I thought,"

"You thought it'd never be back," said Sid.

Rita looked at her mother as she jammed the sabre into her belt. Mrs Malone nodded and went back into the kitchen. She re-emerged with a large rolling pin.

"Harold? Mind the children for me. I'll be back soon." She nodded to her daughter, who seemed somewhat wrong-footed by her mother's sudden militancy.

"You're not the only one with an interest in this, Rita," she said.

"Mum?" Rita gaped.

"Shift yourself, Rita! There's work to be done!"

* * *

Adele Scoop looked around her squad and nodded. 

"All right," she said. "That should be long enough. Let's go."

She stepped forwards as the _Jammy Dodger_ approached at high speed and slammed into the dock. Rita leapt off, not bothering to secure her boat, followed by Mrs Malone. Adele stared at them.

"What are you doing here?"

"Your job, Scoop," said Rita, drawing the sword in her belt.

"Pardon? I don't remember anyone calling for the cavalry!"

"Maybe not, Officer, but we're here anyway!"

Adele looked around as Valentine arrived with his squad. They were wearing black jumpsuits criss-crossed with bandoliers. Adele saluted.

"Sir! I was just getting ready to storm the place!"

"And don't let me stop you," said Valentine. He nodded to Rita. "I thought we'd meet in a situation like this. I'm only glad I didn't miss it. Would it be stupid of me to ask if you have a permit for that sword?"

Rita shifted her grip on it. "Depends on how you define 'stupid'," she said grimly. "What took you so long?"

"Well, it's a long way from Edinburgh as you well know," said Valentine, shrugging. "And some fool, whose name does not occur to me at the moment, seems to have derailed a train just outside London and blocked the track."

"Ready?" shouted Adele. "Now! Go! Go! Go!"

The door yielded quickly to a flurry of blows and the squad burst into the reception area where they stopped and looked around the empty room dumbly.

"Well, that was anticlimactic," said Mrs Malone, subsiding a little.

Rita stared around. "They must be here somewhere!" She remembered the hidden door and pointed to it. "There!"

Valentine looked at it and nodded. "Right. On count of three?"

"What is it with people and counting to three?" said Rita. "Let's just go now!"

They crashed through the door into the control room. Stough looked around I surprise. Ted reached for something inside his jacket, but Rita threw a punch that even Valentine didn't see coming and dropped him like a stone.

"Bert Stough, you're under arrest!" Valentine shouted.

"What for?" The mayor was already backing off.

"We can start with electoral fraud," said Adele, brandishing one of the fake ballot boxes. "And work our way up from there!"

"You do not have to say anything," said Valentine, advancing, "But it may harm your defence if you do not mention when questioned something you may later rely on in court. Anything you do say-"

"I assure you, there's been a misunderstanding," said Stough.

"_Anything you do say_ may be nailed to your forehead and given in evidence against you," finished Valentine, raising a finger. "Metaphorically speaking. For now, at least. Do you understand?"

"There's some kind of mistake," said Stough. His eyes darted around, but lingered too long on the fridge to go unnoticed. Valentine waved, signalling his squad to open it.

Rita ran to her father and untied him. She smiled at him triumphantly, but her expression froze when she saw his ashen face.

"Dad? What's wrong? Are you all right?" She realised that someone was missing. "Where's Roddy?"

"I'm sorry, Rita," said Mr Malone hoarsely. "I'm so sorry. I couldn't stop him."

Rita stood up and looked around. The door to the fridge cracked open, and a mould of ice slid out onto the floor between them. There was no mistaking the figure frozen at the bottom of it.

Rita's scream took everyone by surprise. It was almost primal, a wordless expression of purest pain and rage. She threw herself across the room and tacked Bert Stough to the ground even as her parents ran to the block of ice.

"No!" she screamed. "I'll kill you for that! I loved him and you killed him!"

"Get him out of there!" hissed Mrs Malone. Mr Malone fussed over the ice block.

"We've got to be careful breaking it! If we do it wrong we could hurt him!"

"Oh, for Pete's sake," Mrs Malone rolled her eyes and hefted the rolling pin. She administered a blow that could have split a mountain. The ice shattered like glass, leaving Roddy on the floor as it began to melt. She knelt beside him and brushed ice splinters from his clothes.

Rita raised Roddy's sword. At least he might be avenged by his own blade.

"And not just for him either! I should have had a sister, Stough!" Tears welled up in Rita's eyes, but the sword stayed level. "You took my sister and now you've taken Roddy!"

"Don't!" Stough begged. There was real fear in his eyes and Rita revelled savagely in the fact. After so long, he was finally going to pay.

"Let him go, Rita!" said Valentine. "He's ours now!"

"What do you know, Val?" snapped Rita. "You want to arrest me after this? Fine! He murdered Roddy! You think I care what happens to me now?" She tightened her grip on the sabre and returned her glare to Stough.

"This is better than you deserve," she hissed. She drew back the sword and prepared to strike.

A hand took her elbow. Not tightly, but implacably, holding it steady. Rita started in shock at the cold touch and turned around, hardly daring to breathe. Roddy St. James, fur soaked with melted frost, was standing behind her, holding her arm.

"Put it down, Rita," he said gently. "You don't need that. Just put it down."

"Roddy?" Rita's eyes wavered.

"Put it down," Roddy repeated. "You're right. It is better than he deserves. But now he'll go on trial. Everyone will find out what he did. Let him go. This is the sort of thing he'd do, and you're better than that. That's why I love you."

Rita's heart stopped at the words. The sabre fell from her grip and clattered onto the floor. Tears rose up in her eyes and came forth in an expression of emotion every bit as heartfelt as the scream had been. Sagging against Roddy, she dropped to her knees and cried unashamedly even as Valentine and Adele hauled Stough to his feet and led him away.

"It's all right," said Roddy, kneeling by her and stroking her hair. "It's all right."

Her parents joined them and embraced Rita, holding her as the sobs wracked her body and consoling her. But it was a long time before they succeeded.

* * *

Roddy lay back in the bath and wondered whether anything would ever be hot enough again. Steam rose in thick, roiling clouds, but he still felt a deep chill within his bones that he was half-sure would never leave him. Through the open window, he could hear the music and cheers of the proclamation ceremony. Mr Malone's triumphant voice could be heard above the crowd as the new mayor addressed his city for the first time. Having his opponent arrested for a startlingly long list of crimes had helped, but he had swept the popular vote by a margin bigger than even Sid had predicted.

Roddy smiled. All was well than ended well, then. The hot water was working wonders on his body, melting away the deathly chill of the Ice Maker and making him forget the bruises he had sustained on the rough passage back to London. He allowed himself to relax, sinking slowly below the waterline until only his long nose was above the surface. He stayed that way for some time until he heard the door open. He sat up hurriedly, grabbing for a flannel to cover himself.

"Would a little privacy be too much to ask?" he said, blinking water out of his eyes.

"It would be, yes," said his visitor. Rita pulled a chair over to him and sat next to the bath, winking. "Don't get up, Roddy, at least not on my account."

"I hadn't been planning to," said Roddy. "You're not the mayor, you know."

"You mean you'd stand up for him? I should ask dad to come in here, then." Rita grinned and he laughed, but the expression soon faded from her face.

"Dad told me what you did back there, with Stough. You told him not to sign the deeds even when you knew it would kill you."

"Well, I knew Adele was going to intervene sooner or later," said Roddy. "It was a calculated risk."

"Still…" Rita lowered her head. "It wasn't one I would ever ask you to take. But you still did it."

Roddy shrugged. "It isn't as if near-death experiences are unfamiliar to us," he said.

"That's different." Rita sighed. "Sure, we've been there often enough, but we've always been able to fight it. You…you sacrificed yourself for us."

"I knew how important it all was to you," said Roddy. "You'd have done the same."

"The thing is…I'm not totally sure I would have." Rita looked down. "I'm not sure that I'd have that kind of conviction...or courage."

Roddy looked at her for a long moment. "It was a calculated risk," he said again. He lifted her head and kissed her. "And I didn't do it out of courage."

"What did you do it out of, then?" Rita watched his face.

Roddy simply smiled and kissed her again, but softly, tenderly. Rita closed her eyes and quickly wiped away the tear which rolled down her cheek before Roddy could see it.

"And I'd do it again for the same reason," Roddy said. "I knew what I was doing."

"First time for everything," said Rita. She smiled. "Thank you for everything. Not just that, but the whole campaign. We really couldn't have done it without you."

"You'd have found a way," said Roddy.

Rita shook her head. "Not this time. You saw what happened when I thought you were gone. I really was ready to kill him. He'd taken my sister…the thought that he'd taken you as well was too much."

"I know." Roddy looked away. "And…not for nothing, but I think…I think your sister would have been proud of you today. I really do."

Rita smiled. "You think so?"

"I am. So she would be." Roddy smiled back. They sat in silence for a while, listening to Mr Malone's speech as it came to an end and the band struck up an approximation of _Rule, Britannia_.

"It's been quite a thing, hasn't it?" said Roddy. "We've had planes and trains, now we just need automobiles to get the trio. Just make sure your dad doesn't think about running for Prime Minister and we might just get out of this alive."

"I might be able to arrange that," said Rita, thoughtfully.

"I wasn't serious, you know," pointed out Roddy. "Besides, I don't think Valentine would approve of you stealing anything else. Where did he go, anyway?"

Rita shrugged. "He left with Scoop…I mean, Adele, about an hour ago."

"Really? I'm disappointed," Roddy affected a melancholy air. "Now I'll never know what she thought of me."

"Probably much the same that I think of you," said Rita, grinning.

"Oh, dear, as bad as that? Now, if you'll excuse me," said Roddy. "I was rather busy before you came in."

"Doing what?" said Rita, raising a critical eyebrow at him. "No, wait, on second thoughts I'd rather that remained unfathomable."

"Just like everything else is to you?" suggested Roddy. Rita laughed and shot a hand into the bath, grabbing the flannel and flicking it over Roddy's face.

"You've got five minutes, St. James. Then I'm leaving without you." She stood up and moved for the door.

"Where are you going?" Roddy pulled the flannel off his face and grinned.

"Well, we've got an inauguration ball to go to," said Rita. "And it's been a long time since I got to wear that red dress we bought in Monaco."

"Five minutes isn't very long to get dressed for those of us who care about our appearance, you know," said Roddy.

Rita laughed and rolled her eyes. "Ten minutes, then? Or would it be faster if I stayed here and helped you dress?"

"No, if you stay here it might end up taking a bit longer than that." Roddy winked cheerfully.

"Oh, not that much longer, based on past experience," said Rita sweetly.

"You don't hesitate before plunging below the belt, do you?" said Roddy.

"Wasn't that what you were implying anyway?" Rita raised an eyebrow.

Roddy chuckled. "All right, we'll go to the mayoral ball. And then what?"

"Well, I thought it'd be nice to go someplace. Somewhere none of this can bother us."

Roddy laughed. "Any suggestions?"

"Well," Rita grinned, hand hovering just above the doorknob. "I hear that Edinburgh is nice and quiet at this time of year."

_The End_


End file.
